


Lovers' Eyes

by akosmia



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, References to Depression, Slow Burn, a lot of heavy stuff but mostly just fluff, not really enemies tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-04-20 19:00:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 111,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14267520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akosmia/pseuds/akosmia
Summary: The guy in front of her desk looks down at her, and the way he stares is almost too intense for Rey, but whatever impression he wants to give off is kinda ruined by the fluffy corgi he's barely holding in his arms, with the familiar expression of someone who has never even as much as petted a dog in his whole life. Said dog is currently happily taking in his surrounding with a blessed expression on his face, sticking out his tongue and looking around with a happy face."So," the guy says, as the dog waggles his microscopic tail at her sight. "Is this yours?" he asks again, nodding in the direction of BB8.--The Flower Shop/Tattoo Studio AU in which nobody mentions flowers or tattoos but there's a lot of talk about hope, forgiveness and corgis.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so, this happened??? i actually know nothing about flowers and tattoos, so yeah,,, i don't know, it's going to be wild.  
> it's really been years since i wrote something this long, so i hope it turns out okay. i hope you like it!!

Contrary to popular belief, being a tattoo artist (or an aspiring one, in this case) is not cool. It's maddening and infuriating and most of the times Rey just wants to slam her head against the nearest surface hard enough to give herself a concussion and forget everything.

But she doesn't, because she knows Poe would not be happy about paying her insurance, so she just tries to keep calm as best as she can.

She clenches her fists and tries to count to ten, fighting the urge to throw her computer off the desk and then step on it.

It's not worth it, she tells herself, slowly breathing in and out, closing her eyes and actually putting effort in calming her mind. The computer is worth much more than everything she owns, she thinks, and she can't smash it to pieces just because people are idiots, even if it seems a valid enough reason to her.

"Hey," Poe says, popping from the one of the rooms, with his jacket on and his usual smile on his face, part charming, part affectionate, part pure Poe. "I'm going to The Resistance to grab a cup of coffee before the next client, you want anything?"

Rey sighs, massaging her temples, hoping to melt away the headache that she feels starting somewhere in the back of her mind. "A sense of purpose?"

Poe stares at her, and then whistles. "Jesus Christ, kid, that's harsh" he says, coming up to her desk and patting her shoulder. Normally she'd brush everyone off, but Poe is kind and he respects her boundaries, so she just accepts his comforting touch. "Are you okay?"

She groans, throwing her head back. "Yeah, it's just this asshole," she explains, gesturing in the direction of the computer. "It's the fifth time he changes idea about the design and I've got to work on it again," and then she groans again, to put emphasis on how frustrated she is.

Poe chuckles lightly, patting again her shoulder in an affectionate and understanding gesture. "Better getting used to that, sweetheart," he tells her, before heading to the door, still laughing. "So, you want anything?"

She shakes her head. She craves the taste of coffee, but she knows that if she chunks on caffeine again, her migraine will only worsen and she'll end the day punching someone or tearing the whole tattoo studio apart or both and those are not things she wants to see happen. "No, thank you," she says, then she frowns, staring at Poe. "You had coffee an hour ago".

Poe blushes a little bit, but other than that, he seems unbothered. "Yeah well," he says, shrugging. "Coffee," he adds, as an explanation, which to Rey is a pretty good one, to be honest, but he's still blushing and there's something in his face and in the way he looks a little bit too eager that makes her smirk.

"Is this about Finn?" she asks, propping her head on her hand and watching him, raising her eyebrow. Poe seems a little bit bothered now, and his blush deepens, as he puts a hand on the door handle, but he's still composed and calm.

"What? I don't understand you at all, Rey" he says, and he's blatantly lying, because he's bringing a hand at the base of his neck and looking away from her, as if she could read the truth on his face - which is probably possible, since he seems almost red by now and about to explode. "See you in a while," he adds, opening the door, that moves with a ringing as it brushes against the little bell on top of it.

"Say hi to Finn for me!" she yells, grinning, as he walks away in a hurry, not even turning into her direction to glare at her as he crosses the street, and then she sighs, focusing back on her computer. The frustration has not faded away, but now is mixed with resignation and exhaustion, so she just stares at the screen, trying to type an answer with no swearing and no sarcasm, and then proceeds to work again on the design.

As an aspiring tattoo artist, it should be flattering that someone cares about her art, but most of the times it's just people being people, and if she has learned one thing in all her life, growing up on her own with no help whatsoever from anyone, is that she can't stand people at all. Sure, there are few exception - Poe, of course, and then Finn and Rose, and even Luke, who helps her closing the studio sometimes and tells her tales of when he was younger, but they are just few sparks in a vast, infinite ocean of idiots.

The door rings again as it opens, and Rey doesn't even look up, too caught up in her work, when she says, a smirk on her face. "Back already? Finn wasn't there?"

But, instead of Poe insisting protests about coffee being just coffee ("A necessary mean to survival" he'd say), it's a deep, stern voice who replies. "Is this your dog?"

She's still staring at the monitor, when she hears those words and she frowns, trying to grasp them and finding herself unable to do so. "I don't have a do-" she says, as she raises her eyes and the scene in front of her shuts her up for a whole second while she processes it. Her mouth opens and closes a few times, before she can make it work. "Oh, it's BB8".

The guy in front of her desk looks down at her, and the way he stares is almost too intense for Rey, but whatever impression he wants to give off is kinda ruined by the fluffy corgi he's barely holding in his arms, with the familiar expression of someone who has never even as much as petted a dog in his whole life. Said dog is currently happily taking in his surrounding with a blessed expression on his face, sticking out his tongue and looking around with a happy face.  
"So," the guy says, as the dog waggles his microscopic tail at her sight. "Is this yours?" he asks again, nodding in the direction of BB8.

"Yes," she replies, and then she blinks, taking in the scene in front of her. "I mean, not really. He's my boss'. But yeah. He's," she tries to speak, but her words seem to fail her as she recovers from the stupor. The guy looks at her with an eyebrow raised, and it makes her feel even more surprised, because this is something that definitely didn't expect in her life. This day has turned into something out of the ordinary. "I mean, he belongs here. I thought he was sleeping in the backroom, what the hell".

As the surprise starts to fade, leaving her just mildly confused by the whole thing (and by BB8's apparent leap to freedom) she can actually study the guy in front of her for a few seconds. He's really tall and imposing, somehow, towering over her, and he has that kind of gaze that cuts through you and leaves you open and vulnerable under those eyes. He's intense and harsh, and the features of his face - odd, but somehow fitting together just right - seem to be used to a permanent glare or frown. She wonders if he ever smiles.

He could be almost menacing, she thinks, but then, he's got nice, long wavy hair that frames his face and turns him softer somehow, and he's wearing a warm, pastel beige uniform that makes him look less broody and emo, and he's holding a wriggling corgi in his (very toned, very nice from what Rey can make out with the uniform) arms, and he's almost pouting, and the whole appearance just doesn't work at all, and it makes him look like an angry, frustrated kid, at best, and not the intimidating guy she supposes he wants to be.

"Well," he says, as BB8 wriggles again, his paws moving and kicking his sternum with the strength of a dog who just saw a familiar face and tries to leap. The guy doesn't flinch at all, and just stares at her, frowning - Rey is starting to think that maybe this is not a frown, but just his default expression, his standard reaction to life. "Tell your boss to keep his fucking dog away from my flowers." he adds, glaring down at the corgi who doesn't look mortified at all.

Rey frowns. "Your flowers?" she asks, confused, and then she looks at him again, taking in his uniform, the nice pattern embroidered on the left side of his chest that says _Jedi Flowers_ , and the way he's still looking at the dog. "Oh, _oh_. You must be Luke's nephew".

She remembers Luke mentioning it to her as they were closing their respective shops. "My nephew is coming to give me a hand" he had told her, a few weeks ago, with a tired smile on his face as she helped him dragging down the shutter. His expression had seemed almost exhausted, as if life had started to weight down on him. "I'm not that young anymore, after all, even if I like to pretend I am". She had registered the information somewhere in her brain, and now it comes alive again at the sight of the man in front of her.

To be honest, she expected someone different - someone who looked like Luke, someone calm and relaxed and meditative, someone who looked like he could tell her to do yoga because it was good for her body and her mind, and remind her to eat her vegetables.

She surely didn't expect this, whatever this is - but the stupor isn't quite unpleasant, even if he's unsettling and new for her.

He seem surprised by her words and for a second his frown disappears, and without all that glaring he seems a lot younger and less menacing. His face seems even more pleasant this way, Rey thinks, all his weird features coming together like pieces of a puzzle and forming a nice picture. He's odd, with sharp cheekbones and jaw, and a prominent noise and eyes that look almost like flames on his face, and all of this should make him ridiculous, but instead he looks harmonic and nice. When he doesn't glare.

"Yes, I am," he replies, and then he furrows his brow again, looking at the dog in his arms. A wrinkle appears right in the space between his eyebrows, making him look a little more human, and not a walking anger management issue. "Are you even allowed to have a dog here? Is it legal?" he asks, and there's something accusatory in his tone.

Rey tilts her head backwards to better look at him - God, he's tall, taller than the guys she's used to - and raises an eyebrow at his expression. "Of course it is," she replies, coldly, looking back and forth between him and the happy corgi in his arms. "You can put him down, you know".

The guy - who hasn't introduced himself yet, so she just calls him Captain Emo - seems to realize he's still clumsily holding BB8 in his arms and blushes. The faint pink on his cheeks seems almost flaming red against his pale complexion, and he looks finally younger and real, not a mask of irritation and anger but a human being. He bends to let the little dog free on the floor and, in this way, as he curves forward, his hair falls on his face and it's a lot closer to her desk. Up close, it seems very soft and nice, and Rey asks herself what it would feel like to touch it.

She removes that thought from her mind, as she stands up to her feet and walks up to the guy, who's been avoiding BB8's attentions and raspings, and is raising himself again, bringing a hand through his hair in a desperate attempt to fix it.

"I'm sorry about the flowers," she says, as she stands in front of him. She feels suddenly very small - he's really tall and he seems so strong he could crush her, but he's still staring and glaring at the dog who's now happily chewing on a toy, having decided that maybe he wasn't going to get petted. He looks almost funny like this, and she doesn't feel very intimidated. And beyond that, she has dealt with assholes twice her size for almost all her life, so, really, this is nothing new. "It won't happen again".

"Yeah, yeah," he says, brushing her off, curtly. He raises his eyes to look at her, and scowls again, a grimace on his weird but oddly pleasant face. "Don't let it close to my flowers again," he adds, almost threatening. His eyes are so intense Rey feels on the verge of burning and she asks herself, _what the fuck_.

This guy is something weird - he's too intense and almost frightening in his anger, and really, she can't see him working in a flower shop at all. Rey asks herself what was he doing before Luke called him and had asked him for his help, but she finds herself unable to even guess. He seems the kind of guy who could be anything, including a hitman.

"It won't happen again," she repeats, staring up at him with the same intensity. This guy may be tall and menacing, but she's not intimidated by him and she won't back off - she has fought guys like him all her life. "Anything else?"

He seems to be taken aback by her, and the permanent frown etched on his face fades away again, showing some sign of surprise - a human emotion. He stares down at her - her crossed arms, her gaze, the way she stands in front of him - and he seems almost … impressed? She's not sure about that, to be honest, but there's something in his gaze that wasn't there a moment ago.

He doesn't seem threatening and intense anymore, but he appears somehow curious. He's looking at her like she's a magician who just showed him a trick, and, surprisingly, this makes her more uncomfortable than his glaring anger. She doesn't like being studied like this, so she crosses her arms again on her chest and looks at him, with an eyebrow raised, urging him.

"No," he replies, in the end, and his features regain that kind of scowl that seems to be made for his face. Rey realizes that he looked a little bit softer and nicer without it, but now he's again just the guy who stares at everything maybe hoping to start spontaneous combustion. "Keep that dog on a leash".

"Sure thing," she replies, rolling her eyes, and she can see the hint of a grimace hanging around his lips, again. She wonders if he even sleeps like this.

He seems finished here, so he heads for the door without a word - and there's something in his stride that is almost unsettling. He doesn't just walk, he almost stomps. There's something in this man that leaves her surprised - he seems a frayed wire, electricity running down his veins, sparking around him in waves that make her skin tingle.

"Well, nice to meet you, by the way," she says, but he just groans, opening the door and stomping off, without even looking at her.

She groans too, and then she catches Poe, who's been on the sidewalk looking at the guy who just left.

"What was that?" he asks her, coming right beside her. He has a weird, suspicious grin on his face and a cup of coffee with his name and an winking emoji written on it in his hand, and Rey looks at him and shakes her head.

She stares again at BB8, who's been munching on his toy for the past five minutes, and then back at the door, thinking about the way he had stormed off, all stomping and terrifying. "That, I believe," she says, passing a hand through her hair. "Was a tantrum".

*

  
She spends the rest of the day working on her design, muttering curses under her breath and hoping the asshole who's making her work her ass off can somehow hear them, and then helping Poe with his clients, always keeping an eye on BB8 so he doesn't sneak out again.

She doesn't want to meet Luke's nephew for the second time today, to be honest, and she doesn't want his glare on her again. One time was enough.

Being an aspiring tattoo artist, out of apprenticeship only by a few years, she's got very few clients of her own, and most of the times she just helps Poe, passing him tools and needles, washing them and disinfecting them, and mostly just bringing water to the random big guy who has fainted at the sight of blood, after telling them he's tough and strong. But the part she loves the most is watching Poe work, so intently and precisely, every little twirl of his needles so accurate on the skin under his hands.

She doesn't mind it - she's here to learn, after all, and she did beg Poe to take her in, years ago, so watching him work is not a burden or a task, but something that makes her glad, almost a privilege in her eyes. Poe is methodical and precise, and he is so focused on his work that he doesn't talk at all, but she loves watching him, so she stays beside him, helping him as best she can and just staring at his work.

In the afternoon, in a quiet moment in which there are no appointments and no noises, Poe nudges her to get something to the coffee shop, and Rey gladly accepts his offer, happy to see Finn and stay away from the monitor for a few minutes.

The Resistance is everything a coffee shop should be - it's all wooden surfaces and warm lights, and cozy atmosphere. There are shelves and books, and comfy armchairs that encourage you to lose yourself in a story, a warm cup of coffee in your hands and a nice blanket thrown over your shoulder. It's her favorite place, and when she steps in it, Rey automatically smiles.

"Hey," Finn greets her with a ear-to-ear smile, as she walks up to the counter, while Rose waves her a greeting as she places glasses on the shelf right behind her. "So, what can I do for you?"

Rey smiles, taking in her surroundings and the nice smile on Finn's face. It feels almost like home - she has an apartment on the other side of town, but this is the place that makes her feel at ease and calm and happy. Maybe it's because of Finn, she thinks.

"Just the usual" she tells him, giving him a smile, and Finn nods, moving immediately to grab the ingredients he needs.

"Coming right up".

She sits at the stool right in front of the counter, and waits for him, as she watches him move from one corner to another. It's a familiar sight, something she has seen a lot of times, but it makes her heart clench at the uncharacteristic feeling of warmth in her bones. She loves Poe, and she loves the studio more than anything else, and BB8 of course, but this place - this place is something different, and special, and Finn is kind and warm and his smile speaks of friendship. He's kind of her best friend, and she still has to get used to it, but the notion leaves something in her heart that feels like happiness.

"So," she starts, propping her head on her hand, as a smirk makes its way into her face, because she likes to tease him. "Poe was here, this morning?"

Finn blushes, but he doesn't raise his eyes. "What?" he asks, staring right into the wooden surface of the counter. "What do you mean?"

Rey laughs a little bit, looking at him with both tenderness and exhaustion in her eyes. "Come on, Finn, don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about." she tells him, but he keeps on staring at the counter, almost as if he could find an answer there.

"Oh, he knows," Rose says, as she reaches the two of them, and saves Finn from the trouble of uttering an answer he clearly hasn't found. "He's been gushing about him since this morning".

This brings him back to life.

"Hey!" Finn exclaims, raising his head to look at them. The blush on his face is almost a violent red, and Rey laughs, one hand over her mouth to suffocate her giggle. "I'm not gushing. I'm not" he adds, pointing a finger in her direction. Rey just looks at him, unimpressed, but then she nods, knowing far too well that she won't get anything out of him.

"Yeah, sure," she says, nodding again, trying to seem as convinced as possible while kindly ignoring the blush on Finn's face. He finishes her order and he passes her the coffee she's been craving for all day, and she smiles, holding the cup into her hands, warming them up. "How's your day been so far?"

Finn seems glad of the change of subjects, and he shrugs, a little bit more relaxed. "Same as always," he replies, with a sigh, resting his elbows on the counter and looking at her. "Yours?"

It's always something new - someone caring enough about her to ask her how her day has been. She doesn't remember it ever happening before she came here - before she started working with Poe, before she met Finn and Rose. It's all new and sometimes it's overwhelming, but most of the times it's just nice.

She takes a sip of her coffee, before shrugging too. "Well, BB8 escaped and apparently munched on Luke's flowers," she tells him, turning her head a little bit to stare, through the windows, at the little flower shop right across the street. "And the new guy came to lecture me about it".

Surprisingly, at her words Finn rolls his eyes and groans, while Rose chuckles, lightly. Rey raises her eyebrow, turning her head back into his direction and staring at him, questioning.

Finn sighs, crossing his arms and staring at the counter, as he shrugs. "I can't stand him," he says, and he almost winces, as if he's remembering something particularly unpleasant.

Rey is taken aback, and widens her eyes as she watches him. "You know him?" she asks, surprised, and then stares at Rose who just shrugs.

"Well, he's been around for a few days," she replies, quietly, and gives her a small smile. "Finn's overreacting. He's normal. Silent, rude sometimes, but nothing exceptional".

Rey thinks about that morning - the way he had walked in, an intense stare on his face as he looked down at her, holding BB8, and the words _nothing exceptional_ seem almost like a joke. He's weird and too intense for her liking, but she has to admit he's something different from the usual.

Finn snorts. "He comes in and orders black coffee," he says, and when Rey shakes her head, to tell him she isn't following him, he just sighs, as if he's dealing with a child. "What's the point of going to a coffee shop if you just order black coffee?" he explains, gesturing at the whole shop with an expression that she'd describe almost as insulted.

The fact that this guy doesn't drink anything more elaborate than black coffee must have really hurt Finn's need to express himself through caffeine, Rey thinks.

"Maybe he likes it," she suggests, but he shakes his head, as if she was saying something particularly stupid.

"He can make it at home".

"Maybe he can't," Rose intervenes, lightly punching his arm and laughing at his shocked expression. "And he brings money," she adds, with a raise of her eyebrows. "I wouldn't be so snobbish about it".

Cornered, Finn raises his hands and sighs, admitting defeat. "Yeah, sorry, it's just," he starts, and his words trail off as he stares at the flower shop through the windows. Rey turns her face, sipping again her coffee, and she catches the sight of Captain Emo outside the shop, with a pot of flowers in arms. "He used to be kind of my boss," Finn confesses, in the end.

Rey turns to face him, again, surprised. This day has been a rollercoaster of weird moments, and she can't wait for the ride to be over. "What?"

There's a grimace, on Finn's face, as he speaks again. Rey knows this is not something he likes to talk about - his previous job had left him empty and broken, and she knows he has not fond memories of that time.

"Remember the First Order? The corporation I was basically a slave for?" he asks, and Rey nods, obviously. They don't really talk about that, but she remember very well how desperate he had been when she had met him. He had just quit his job, and he was nothing more than a broken kid, who Rose had took in from the goodness of her heart. Those times are gone, but Rey suspects the memory still hurts sometimes. "He used to be on top of it. Well, not really on top of it, but he was a pretty big guy. His codename was Kylo Ren".

She is too surprised to process the information, so it's Rose who reacts in her place - Rey just turns her head again in the direction of the flower shop, where she sees the guy crouching over the flowers he's fixing in front of the window. He's almost curved on it, and there's a sort of tension in his posture, something that speaks of unease and awkwardness.

"Codename?" Rose asks. Rey can't see her, but she imagines her raising her eyebrow, questioning.

Finn sighs again, and it seems like this costs half of his spirit, because the next words are almost a whisper. "Yeah, they don't use real name there," he explains, briefly. "They say that forgetting about our humanity increases the profits or something like this".

Rey turns again, shocked. She knew Finn had suffered from his work at the First Order, but this is beyond that - this is a whole new level of fucked up. "Jesus Christ, that's horrible," she says, staring at Finn, who's now wincing. On impulse, she places her hand on top of his, and smiles encouragingly at him, stroking his skin, and Finn seems to relax.

"Well, he used to work for them," he concludes, shrugging, watching again the figure across the street. The guy - she will not call him Kylo Ren, he may be a jerk but that's not even a real name, that's something dehumanizing - is brushing the soil off his hands in swift and deliberate movements. "And then he just quit overnight, I heard," Finn adds, shaking his head and looking back at her. "I just wonder how he ended up here, in Luke's flower shop".

That much, she knows. "He's his nephew," she informs him, with a shrug. "He has told me that this morning".

Now, telling was an exaggeration - he hadn't talked at all, he had just glared at her, at BB8 and at everything that moved and then he had proceeded to lecture her about the dog. But she supposes it doesn't matter, in the end.

Finn shakes his head again, a grim expression on his face. "Poor guy," he just says.

Rey finishes off her coffee in silence, and then sighs, knowing far too well she has to go back to the studio - she has wasted enough time and while Poe is understanding and nice, he's still her boss and she doesn't want to make him angry.

"I have go," she says, standing up to her feet and throwing on herself her jacket. "I'll tell Poe you say hi" she adds, smirking up at Finn, who immediately blushes.

"I don't-"

Rey laughs. "You do, trust me," she tells him, as she heads to the door. "You do".

*

  
The rest of the day goes by quickly - she welcomes the last clients, make them sit in the studio, helps Poe, and everything is a blurry until it's closing time and she's almost dozing off her desk.

"Come on, time to go home," Poe tells her, putting a hand on her shoulder to wake her up.

"Finally," she says, turning off the monitor of her computer and yawning. She arches her back, all stiff from being seated too much, and she raises to her feet, grabbing her jacket. "I'm so tired".

Poe laughs. "Yeah, me too," he says, as he shuts down the lights and opens the door for her. Rey smiles at him as she wears her jacket, and they step outside together.

Winter is coming, and the days are getting shorter, so she is not surprised it's already dark when she exits the shop. She shivers a little bit, as she helps Poe drag down the shutter, and then she bends to lock it in place. It all comes natural - this is something she's been doing for years, and her body almost does it automatically, a sort of procedural memory etched to her arms as she moves.

"You want a ride?" Poe asks her, when she raises again. He's got his car keys in his hands and he's looking at her with a smile, while BB8 wiggles his almost invisible tail.  
  
The answer comes to her lips almost automatically, years and years of relying only on herself ingrained in her mind, a different sort of muscle memory.  
  
"No, don't worry, I'll take the bus," she reassures him, and before he can speak again, they hear the familiar sound of another shutter coming down.

Rey turns almost automatically and she sees him - the guy, crouching again to lock the blinds, and then raising to his feet, swiftly. He does it in deliberate movements, a sign that this is something new for him, and she stares at him - his long hair that lightly brushes his shoulders, his posture, the way he moves. He's definitely not something unexceptional, and he's almost unsettling, in a way. He leaves her wondering what the hell he really is.

He seems to realize he's being observed, because he turns and catches her gaze. Rey doesn't look away; instead, she nods into his direction, silently.

He's not frowning now, but he just looks at her with an unreadable expression - he could be thinking anything right now, and Rey couldn't guess it at all. It's dark, and the streetlight doesn't light up his whole face, so she can't see him very well, but there's something in him that makes her curious.

And then, he nods back in her direction and turns his back on her, walking away without uttering a single word. She watches him leave, his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he stomps off.

"That guy is weird" Poe comments, and Rey can't help but agree with him.

Yeah, he's definitely something.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The problem of dealing with people is that they are, in fact, people, which is exactly what Ben doesn't know how to handle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for all your support, i am really happy!! it really means a lot to me that you are willing to follow me in this adventure, so thank you!

The problem of dealing with people is that they are, in fact, people, which is exactly what Ben doesn't know how to handle.  
  
He knows - he's always known, all too well. He's always been a gawky, awkward mess, stumbling on his words, hiding behind a stern gaze, using his own face as a mask, uncomfortable around even his own parents, when he used to talk with them. Things haven't exactly gotten better with the First Order - memories still fresh and painful in his mind, and in his nightmares - so this situation is not a surprise to him, at all.  
  
No, it's definitely not a surprise - it feels almost like a confirmation, something in his mind admitting defeat and telling him he's a hopeless cause. Ben already knew that, but the realization tastes bitter in his mouth all the same, as usual.  
  
She doesn't speak, she just stares at him as he raises the shutter, her eyes following his movements like he's some kind of wild animal she's keeping track of. She always does that, he realizes as he raises to his feet again. They meet in the morning, when everything is quiet and delicate, and she's waiting for her boss to arrive, and he's opening his (well, Luke's, but he tries to accept it as part of his new life) shop, and they stare at each other in the silent morning light, as the world wakes up around them. She looks at him like she's trying to understand what goes on in his mind, and there's a hint of curiosity in her eyes, as she takes him in, brows knitted together in concentration, almost as if he was some sort of mystery to her.  
  
Ben wonders what she thinks of him, and then decides he doesn't want to known. He knows he's made quite an impression with last week's outburst  and she probably thinks he's some kind of asshole with anger management issues (which is probably true) and he really doesn't need to be told, _again_.  
  
"Hey," she says, after a while, cocking her head to the side. Her voice is not harsh or detached, but almost soft, as delicate as the first rays of sun shining over them, painting their faces in the colors of the dawn. Maybe it's the sacred silence that surrounds them, that makes her act this way, and Ben turns into her direction with no frown, but a flicker in his soul, or what remains of it.  
  
She's leaning against the wall, her arms crossed on her chest, and her warm brown hair falls around her face in sweet waves, making her face even kinder. There are freckles on the bridge of her nose and on her cheeks, and the corner of her mouth is curved in something that resembles almost a smile, and Ben panics.  
  
Well, he doesn't exactly panic, not out loud at least, but that's what it feels like in his mind, as usual, so he just does the most logical thing he can think of, the only thing he has always done in these situations - he acts like himself.  
  
"Whatever," he says, coldly, before unlocking the door and entering his shop in a hurry, almost flinging himself inside. He has barely the time to register her shocked expression, before he closes the door behind himself, and brings a hand to his face, hoping to erase this awful, embarrassing memory that will probably haunt him for the rest of his life.  
  
Maybe the problem of dealing with people is that he's incapable of doing so, he thinks, as he curses himself, turning on the lights and breathing in the familiar scent of flowers he has learned to memorize in these few weeks.  
  
He catches a glimpse of her small frame as she peeks through the shop window, maybe searching for him or for an explanation for his odd behavior, and he quickly retreats in the backroom, trying to forget the way she was looking up at him just a few minutes before. It's a losing battle - he can't help but linger on the memory of her face, on the smile at the corner of her lips as she talked to him. It feels seared into his soul, and no matter how hard he tries to ignore it, she comes back to haunt him. He doesn't know why she has such an effect on him - she's just a girl, he tells himself. But his mind always drifts back to the constellation of freckles on her face.  
  
He changes himself in his uniform and sighs, running a hand through his hair as he glances down at the pastel colors of the clothes he's forced to wear - he's starting to think Luke's just messing with him, because he feels very ridiculous in that, but he accepts it. Maybe it's what he deserves, he thinks, but then his mind reminds him that he deserves so much worse than pastel clothes and flowers. It's a thought that poisons his mind and he doesn't dwell on it, but he can feel it grow every day.  
  
He pretends it's not there, and for a while, he succeeds.  
  
Luke arrives soon after, driving his old shop truck with a cascade of new flowers, and calls him for help as he climbs down the vehicle in swift movements under Ben's shocked gaze. He calls himself old, but Ben suspects it's just an excuse to make him work more.  
  
"Here we are," Luke says, seeing him and nodding in the direction of the flowers. Ben helps him carrying everything inside, even if he doesn't think Luke really needs his help - he looks as strong and young as Ben remembers him from his childhood memories, but he doesn't protests. He deserves this, he thinks. He deserves so much worse than working his ass off.  
  
Either way, they bring everything inside in silence, as the morning rolls around. Ben crouches on the floor, fixing the flowers in the pots with a focus he has reserved for very few things in his life - but he doesn't want to mess this up, he has already had too many chances, and he has to make this work. That's what he tells himself every time he leaves in the morning, every time he comes back home, every time he closes his eyes - he has to make this work.  
  
He's not sure he can, but he has to try.  
  
"So," Luke starts, as he sits behind the counter, his elbows propped against the wooden surface. "How's Naboo treating you, so far?"  
  
Ben raises his eyes to study his uncle, and he's taken aback by the kindness he reads on his face, something unexpected, but not unwelcome - just new, and scary. He doesn't know how to react, so he turns back to the flowers in his hands.

"It's only been a few weeks," he replies, biting his bottom lip. "But it's fine," he adds, thinking about the quiet, silent moments in the morning, and the tranquil nights. It feels like a different world from the one he has known, and he hasn't figured out yet if he likes it better or not, but there's something in the peace of this world that makes his heart ache, and he could get used to it. He could, were his mind less chaotic and terrifying.   
  
"I know it's not Coruscant," his uncle says, and there's the hint of a gentle smile in his words. Ben is not looking at him, but he can feel it, and his heart does something weird in his ribcage, and a voice in his mind tells him he doesn't deserve it at all. He tries to shut it up, gripping the stems in his hands so tight his knuckles become white. "But I hope it could make you happy all the same".  
  
He thinks about it - his quiet apartment in the city, so much smaller than the one he had in Coruscant, and the way he stares at the ceiling at night, trying to fall asleep without all the noises that had been his lullaby for years.  
  
It's unsettling, his mind still trying to wrap itself around it. He still has trouble sleeping, and he has to remind himself he's safe, every now and then, but it could be something. It could be something.  
  
"It's …" his words trail off, and he bites his lips again, trying to think of something to say that doesn't betray what he's feeling. His uncle is being kind, but Ben still needs time - trust doesn't exactly come easy, after years of isolation and loneliness. "It's nice," he says, in the end, raising again his eyes and turning to face Luke, a small smile on his lips. It feels almost forced, and painful, like his muscles had forgotten how to move for something that isn't a frown, but he accepts the pain like he has always done.  
  
Luke gives him a smile, as small as his but twice as real and kind. "I'm happy you are willing to give it a chance," he says, and there's so much love, so much fondness in these words Ben doesn't quite know how to process it.  
  
He isn't sure about what his uncle is really talking about - if he's giving a chance to Naboo or to happiness and peace, but he just nods, and they stay in silence for a while, Ben fixing the flowers, and Luke staring down at him, his eyes burning his back.  
  
"You know, your mother asked about you," Luke says, after a few minutes. Ben stiffens, his hands stopping mid-air as he lets the words sink in his soul.  
  
His mother. Oh, how many years had passed since someone had uttered those words? He doesn't remember - the time he has spent away, in the First Order, is blur of pain, of chaos, of feeling inadequate and helpless. He can't remember the last time he even uttered his mother's name. Not even when-  
  
Unable to stop himself, he turns again to face Luke, watching him with trembling lips. "What," he starts, voice shivering in his throat. "What did she say?"  
  
He wishes he was able to forget about it, to not ask about her, to just be strong and steel himself, but he knows he's weak and useless and basically just a mess, just like Snoke has always reminded him, so he just stares at Luke, hope in his heart but fear on his lips.  
  
Luke's face goes soft as he looks at him, but he says nothing of that. "She wanted to know how you're doing. She is worried about you".  
  
Of course she is - even if he doesn't deserve it at all.  
  
His lips tremble again, as he breathes. "And what did you say?" he asks, a longing he didn't know he was capable of feeling taking over his heart.  
  
Luke stays in silence for a moment, before answering. He stares at him, with his bright eyes, and there's a smile hanging on his face, soft and sad at the same time. Ben feels guilty, so he turns his eyes back on the flowers he's still holding in his clumsy hands.  
  
"I told her you're trying," Luke replies, after a while, and Ben looks at the flowers, and at his hands, and at the way they shake. "You should call her, Ben. She misses you".  
  
As if he didn't miss her - they had tried to break him down, to rip him open, to remove every single thing from his previous life, to make him shed his humanity, to turn him a weapon, but they had failed and, really, that's how he ended up in his uncle's shop, chopping off stems and making bouquets, too broken to come home but too alone to stay away from it, settling for a compromise.  
  
"Yeah," he says, nodding to himself as he fixes the last flowers. "I will, eventually".  
  
Luke sighs, and when Ben rises to his feet and comes to the counter, he pats his shoulder with energy, smiling up at him. "Let's open up the shop, kid".  
  
Ben nods, and the rest of the day is a background noise.

*

  
At night, he sits on his bed, with the phone in his hands, staring down at the screen with a trembling heart.  
  
The night is quiet, as usual, and the only sound he can hear is the wind rattling against the windows. His apartment is small and modest, so much different from the one he had a few months ago, but it feels warm, somehow, or at least he thinks it should, would he allow himself to feel the heat it radiates. It's all so different from his old life - a life made of black and white and impersonal furniture, and lumps in his throat as he looked down on his broken hands.  
  
Now he's sitting on a nice, warm bed, pastel blue sheets beneath him, and a soft blanket thrown over his frame, and it's something new, something he's still learning to accept in his life. Something that feels unsettling, but in a way that could almost be pleasant, one day.   
  
Looking down at the screen, he sighs. With his thumb, he scrolls down his contact list, even if he doesn't need to, but it buys him time from the storm he hears raging in his mind, and it gives him an excuse to put off the moment he's dreading, and so he does, breath hitching in his mouth. His hands shakes when he finally finds the number he's been looking for, and he has to hold the sheets, gripping them to the point it hurts, to stop the shivering.  
  
Before he can talk himself out of it, his thumb presses down on the number and in a moment the call is starting. The ringing sound is almost haunting in the silence of his apartment, and makes his heart jump in his throat, beating furiously and leaving him out of breath.   
  
He brings the phone to his ear, his breath erratic as his chest rises and falls so quickly. It would almost scare him, but he has dealt with it for all his life - and then everything falls apart as the call is connected.  
  
"Hello?" a voice says, on the other end of the line. He jolts, and his heart does something in his ribcage that he doesn't quite know how to define - it goes silent for a moment, completely still into his chest, and then it tries to recover and speeds up to the point he's not even keeping track of its beats anymore. "Hello?"  
  
He's petrified, and he can't utter a word. There's a universe of things he wants to say that are threatening to split his lips open, to rip him apart, to crack him and break him, but he suddenly finds himself unable to even open his mouth as he hears his mother's voice.  
  
It's different - it's older, and resigned, and tired. He realizes it's the first time he hears it in more than ten years, and the sudden, but familiar fear takes hold of him, making it hard to breathe.  
  
And, somehow, his mother understands.  
  
"Ben?" she says, sweetly. Her voice goes soft, and it reminds him of when she used to kiss him goodnight, whispering his name with a smile on her lips, pressing kisses to his forehead. "Ben, is that you?"  
  
It's a nice memory, but it makes him shiver and he realizes he can't do it. He can't do it, not now, not like this, he can't ask for forgiveness even knowing she will grant him just that, he's not ready, he's not ready to hear her sigh and cry and say his name, he's not ready and the world seems to close around him, choking him-  
  
He hangs up.  
  
The phone slips from his hand and lands on the bed with a dull sound, as Ben tries to breathe again, fear slowly retreating, leaving him numb and shivering. His hands tremble still, and he can't feel his legs at all as he raises to his feet.  
  
He walks to his bathroom without knowing how he got there, and before he knows he's empting the content of his stomach down the toilet as he trembles, tears in his eyes both from the effort and from everything that has happened in his life.  
  
After, he washes his face and brushes his teeth, and when he looks himself in the mirror, he can't recognize his face at all.

*

When he raises his gaze from the pot of flowers he's been fixing in front of the shop window, he finds himself staring into the deep, warm brown eyes of a corgi.  
  
He know he's tired - he hasn't been sleeping at all these days, his mother's voice haunting his dreams, turning them into nightmares, and he knows he's exhausted, his bones heavy and his mind dazed, but hallucinations seem a little bit too much even for him, so, before he can realize it, he's stretching out his hand and he's stroking the corgi's head, which seems definitely real under his fingertips.   
  
The dog waggles what it should be his tail.  
  
"Not again," he says, retreating his hands as the dog tilts his head to look at him, questioning, almost as if he was asking him why on earth did he stop petting him. "Stay away from my flowers, you little chewing monster" he adds, pointing his finger at the corgi hoping to scare him off.  
  
In response, the dog sticks out his tongue to lick his hand.  
  
Ben looks down at him, and the dog looks back, in a staring contest Ben's not sure he's actually winning, as he wonders what he should do. Grab the dog and barge in her studio, reminding her that her pet is a chewing machine and probably an escape artist? He brings a hand to his face, remembering last time he was in her presence, and he definitely doesn't want to look even more ridiculous than he already feels. He doesn't even _care_ about the flowers, but it's just - he has to make this work, he can't mess this up too, and this orange  _monster_ has apparently decided to make it his life mission to stress Ben out.  
  
The dog still looks at him, maybe urging him to find an answer. Or maybe he's just waiting for the right opportunity to smash the pot of flowers on the floor and munching on it like the criminal he is.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
He's saved from finding a solution by approaching footsteps and a ragged breath. He raises his eyes from the dog, only to meet the girl from the tattoo studio, staring down at the two of them with a shocked expression, almost as if they had been sneaking around behind her back. Ben feels guilty for a moment, before he remembers he has done nothing wrong. At least this time.  
  
"I found him there," he says, fighting the temptation to raise his hands in a plead for innocence. "I didn't do anything," he adds, because her eyes are squinting, taking him in as if she's mentally balancing the pros and the cons of fighting him right here on the street. Ben knows he's definitely stronger than this wiry girl who barely reaches his shoulders, but the look she gives him is almost scary, and he forgets that for a second.  
  
"BB8, what the _fuck,_ " she says, catching her breath,  and looking back and forth between him and the dog right in front of him, who hasn't even the decency to look mortified. He just sticks out his tongue, glancing up at her. She sighs, and she immediately loses that terrifying gaze, as she brings a hand to her face and through her hair, pulling it back. "I'm sorry," she adds, looking down at the dog again with a furrowing of her brow, confused. "I don't know how he keeps sneaking out".  
  
Ben's still crouched on the floor when he replies, so he has to look up to meet her eyes. It almost feels like he's kneeling in front of her, and the thought makes him blush. "Have you considered that your dog is attempting a prison break?" he asks her, raising an eyebrow and giving her a sort of sarcastic smile that doesn't hurt his face as much as a real one does. Baby steps, he tells himself.   
  
She's still breathing heavily, her chest raising and falling quickly with her shoulders as she tries to calm down, and her hair is a mess around her face, wavy and curly and sticking out in weird places, but it's a look that almost suits her - it makes her look very real, and human, and Ben has to look away from her because he's blushing again. He hides behind his hair as he pretends to move the pot of flowers around, hoping she doesn't notice the way his cheeks are reddening right now.  
  
He thanks whatever deity is currently listening for the fact that he has grown out his hair, so she can't see his flushed ears. That would be mortifying.   
  
At his words, she groans, and the sound is almost surprising. "I told you, BB8 is not my dog," she reminds him, annoyed, and when he looks up, she can see her rolling her eyes. "And he's not attempting anything, he's just curious," she adds, looking back at the corgi who's sitting right beside her with an innocent face.   
  
Ben raises his eyes again, meeting hers. She's staring down at him with no anger or frustration on her face, just the hint of something - curiosity, maybe. Her hands are on her waist, and her eyebrows are raised, and there's  a sort of smile hovering around her lips.  
  
"He's _too_ curious about my flowers" he replies, nodding into the general direction of the flowers he's been fixing for the past ten minutes. She snorts, and it's such a spontaneous sound he's almost taken aback.  
  
"Or maybe he's in love with you" she tells him, quirking one eyebrow and looking down at him with a mischievous smile on her lips, and Ben almost loses it.  
  
It's very hard to put himself together, after that smile.  
  
"Well," he says, desperately trying to think about something else. He looks back at the dog, who's been staring at them in silence, waggling his tail, maybe expecting a pet. Ben doesn't know dogs very well, but he supposes this little chewing monster is cute, in his own annoying, criminal way. "Don't eat my flowers again, you hear me? Don't you even try" he says, pointing his finger at the corgi again, but he seems unbothered and just stares at him, tilting his head as if to hear him better.  
  
Ben hears a laugh.  
  
He looks up again, and he can see her - she's bringing a hand to her mouth, trying to stifle a giggle, and there are dimples on her face, something that makes his stomach twist in a weird way. He sighs, and then he gives up on lecturing dog and raises to his feet, looking at her, questioning, as if waiting for an explanation, but truth be told he's just enthralled by the way shoulders shake as she tries to recover.   
  
"I'm sorry," she says, after a few seconds, when she catches her breath. She looks at him, and there's no animosity or annoyance on her face, she's just glancing up at him with a smile, dimples on the sides of her mouth, freckles on her cheeks, making her something precious. It's not the first time he realizes it, but it's the first time he admits to himself she's cute, and he blushes, stupidly. This conversation is turning him into a stuttering mess, and he can't wait for it to be over - but not really. There's something in the warmth she radiates that pulls him in, and he doesn't want to lose it. "I'm sorry. It's just," she shakes her head, maybe trying to find a word to express what she's feeling. "That was..."  
  
He already knows what it was.  
  
He brings a hand at the base of his neck, as he presses his lips together, embarrassed, and it feels all very new and unsettling. He hasn't had many chances to explore feelings that weren't pain or rage in the last ten years, and right now he's a bit lost, as he looks at her, maybe hoping to find an explanation written on her face.  
  
"Ridiculous?" he finishes, unable to stop himself. A self-deprecating smile makes its way on his lips as he looks down, a hand still at the nape of his neck, and the other, hidden in the pocket of his uniform,  clenched into a fist. His heart goes almost silent in his chest, as he hears her breathe, and he prepares himself for what is coming.  
  
And then, she surprises him. "What? No," she replies, almost shocked. It's a moment - his head jolts up, and he catches her gaze, and she's staring at him, furrowing her brow again, almost as if she was trying to decode him, and it feels weird. He doesn't remember the last time somebody actually took time to understand him, and this girl who barely knows him at all and has barely spoken to him without groaning and sighing, is standing in front of him and she's studying him like he's an inscription in an ancient language she's trying to translate. It makes him feel naked, and terrified, but also eager, somehow, and this thought makes him shiver and ache. It makes him long for that kind of understanding, and he feels very, very frightened by his own heart. "It thought it was cute, in your own intense kind of way".  
  
Cute. That's a word no one ever used to describe him - he's been awkward and menacing, terrifying and broody, something almost feral and brutal, but he has never been cute. He doesn't know how to react, so he runs a hand through his hair, biting his bottom lip and looking away from her. He knows he's blushing, but he pretends he isn't.  
  
"Yeah, well," he says, embarrassed. It all feels very new for him, and he's not sure about what to say. The hand still hidden in his pocket is clenched to the point his short nails are sinking in the skin of his palm. It doesn't hurt - it's more like a brief sting, that helps him staying focused. It feels like she has knocked him out, ripping the ground beneath his feet, taking his breath away, and he looks at his shoes, trying to calm his erratic heart. "Keep your dog away from my shop," he adds, because it's the only way he can regain some kind of control over this situation, and control is the only thing he has in his life, right now.  
  
He looks back to her, and she's raising her eyebrow, maybe surprised by his curtness, but she says nothing of that. She just looks at him, and the hint of a smile doesn't fade from her face, and it makes her soft. He wonders what it would feel like to touch that smile with his fingertips, brushing lightly against her lips as he traces her face, and he blushes again. He should not think that of a stranger he just met a week before - but her dimples and freckles make him forget who he is for a shiny second, and he feels very stupid and very foolish.  
  
"I will," she replies, and then she's patting her thigh, drawing the attention of the corgi who's been quietly looking at them and sniffing the flowers, maybe waiting for the right moment to strike. "Come on, BB8, let's get back inside," she adds, almost bending over the little dog, who's now waggling his microscopic tail and following her.  
  
Ben watches her walk away with something in his heart - regret, and longing, mixing together, blending, cracking him open from the inside, and he sighs, knowing far too well how messed up he is. It should not be a surprise that everything around him turns messed up too.  
  
Before she enters her studio, BB8 still hopping around her, she turns into his direction, and gives him a smile. It's not a sarcastic smile, or a forced one. It feels real, and her face is bright and warm, and Ben can feel his heart in his throat, on his lips, as he tries to breathe.  
  
"It was nice talking to you" she says, nodding into his direction, and she's not mocking him or messing with him. She's honest and sincere in what she's saying, and he doesn't know how to react, he doesn't know how to process this information and store it in his mind, in his soul, so he says nothing. He just nods in her direction, watching her disappearing into her shop, followed by her dog, and he stares down at his hands, at the tiny scars where his nails have carved a hole in his skin.  
  
She was just being nice, he realizes. She was just trying to make conversation, but he doesn't know how. He doesn't remember the last time he actually talked with someone, and his soul flickers at the thought - he doesn't know how to deal with people without fucking it up, he doesn't even know how to _exists_ without fucking it up. He's still learning, slowly, and it feels painful and scary and so, so big. Something so much bigger than him, something that scares him to death. Something he has to face, eventually.  
  
He doesn't know if he actually has the strength to do it.  
  
He watches his hands, and bites his lips, and he truly doesn't know what to feel anymore. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This guy - Ben, she tells herself - takes a lot of his time to build a mask out of his face, but then he looks at her and she smiles at him, telling him something nice, and the masks comes off, showing a blushing boy underneath it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, thank you for all your support, i really don't have the words to say how much it means to me!! i know the story is really slow for now, but i promise it's going to get better!!  
> also, i realized these chapters are really long, and they are only going to get longer because, apparently, i'm really verbose so, sorry i guess?? i hope you don't mind too much.
> 
> if university and exams don't kill me, i might be able to update every monday and thursday, hopefully, so see you on thursday!! (if classes don't make me pass out on the floor).

It goes like this.

  
She arrives early, most of the times. Public transport being public transport and making it feel like she's trying to get to Mordor instead of to the other side of the city, she leaves very early and, obviously, she arrives as early outside the studio, where she waits for Poe to come open the shop.  
  
It's not entirely unpleasant - she can see the first rays of sun slowly warm up the street, and feels nice. It's always a surprise, knowing that the sun can be gentle and warm, and not only scorching and terrifying, and she watches the sunrise with glittering eyes, staring at the way the sky turns pink and orange over the roofs. It's almost magical, and it's a moment she doesn't have to share with anyone. It's entirely hers, and she can breathe in the silence and the quietness of all of it, letting it slowly ease into her soul. It's been years, but it still leaves her somewhat astonished to realize how lovely this feels - _lovely_   wasn't exactly a word she had the chance of using, growing up, and she still has to adjust, sometimes. She supposes years of hell are not going to be erased by a few scraps of peace and tranquility but - it's lovely, she thinks, and that's enough.  
  
He arrives early too.  
  
She sees him everyday - he arrives, stomping his way down the street, wrapped in a nice, warm coat that makes him look softer, somehow. He's usually dressed in dark colors, black jeans and a blue scarf around his neck, and he looks like a spot of darkness against the brightness of the morning sky. He's silent and quiet, and he doesn't utter a word in her presence - he just stares at her with his intense gaze, and a curving of his lips that could pass almost for the hint of a smile, were he less, well, whatever he is.  
  
"Hey," she says, usually, nodding into his direction. It's not an affectionate greeting, but she's not cold or angry or detached either - to be honest, once the surprise from the first days had faded, she's been curious about him. There's something in his eyes that leaves her intrigued, something that pulls her in even if she tries to resist it - maybe she's just nosy, she tells herself, but she knows he's something. She doesn't know exactly what, but he's surely something. She remembers the way he had blushed under her gaze, last time they had talked, and the way his cheeks had turned red when she had told him he was cute, so soft and entrancing, so different from his usual cutting gaze.   
  
She leans against the wall behind her, and stares at him - at the way his hands fumble with the shop keys, his tall frame, the curve of his back as he kneels down to raise the shutter, and there's a tension in the place between his shoulder blades that runs down his spine, and threaten to split him open somehow.  
  
He's a mystery, and she is instinctively drawn to him, in the way she was drawn to flowers in the deserted fields of Jakku - something weird and out of place, something that shouldn't have survived that long, but that did, despite everything. He reminds her of a stunted tree, broken and defeated, but reaching for the sunlight all the same.   
  
He nods too, usually. "Hey," he replies, his voice deep and intense as always, as he opens the door of the shop. He looks at her for a moment and they just stare at each other in silence - there's no animosity, no hatred or anger, they just stand there, a bit awkwardly, as the sun slowly rises in the sky and lightens up their faces. He doesn't frown, and there's something hanging at the corner of his mouth, something that look almost like silent companionship.  
  
Then he opens the door and disappears in the shop with another nod. Rey usually stares at the place he was just a moment ago, and then sighs, and waits for Poe to come over and start the day.

*

It goes like this.  
  
She runs into him at The Resistance a few times. He's more often than not awkwardly standing in line, fumbling with his hands as he waits for his order, his eyes focused on his shoes, almost as if he was trying to shield himself behind the curtain of his hair. He looks out of place here, with his dark hair and his intense gaze that cuts through everything, but the warm, pastel colors of his uniform, even if covered slightly by his dark coat, make him look more human - realer, somehow, and not a wisp of black smoke.  
  
She usually stands beside him as Finn prepares their orders, without saying a word. His presence next to her feels almost like an habit, something she's used to, something that is almost reassuring, in the way the certain little things in her life are reassuring. He feels like the warmth of a cup of tea in the evening, or the beauty of the tender winter sun on her skin, or the silence after a long day of work. They're all small things that go almost unnoticed, but that make her heart clench. His presence beside her is something like this - something ordinary and plain, but that warms her heart.  
  
"Hey," she says, nodding into his direction as usual, a sort of silent greeting between the two of them. He furrows his brow, but it's not a frown or a glare or something in between - it's more like a puzzled expression, like he's trying to figure her out, to solve a riddle written on her face. There's a wrinkle between his eyebrows that makes him look focused on his task, and Rey wonders what he's seeing in her right now. His eyes are not as fierce as usual, but there's something different in them, a hint of curiosity.  
  
"Hey," he replies. He seems surprised by her, and he clearly doesn't know how to take this situation in, so he awkwardly shifts from one foot to another, without uttering as much as another word. She looks at him, raising her eyebrows, but she doesn't say anything. For a brief moment, she wonders if somebody ever talked to him at all without glaring or shouting, but then she shakes her head, trying not to think about it.  
  
Finn brings their orders after a moment, placing them on the counter, and Rey catches the name scribbled on the cup in Finn's messy handwriting - Ben. She repeats it in her mind, trying to connect the face she has learned to know in these few weeks to that name. She expected something different, something modern, but it suits him - it's an old name, that sticks to his odd, but pleasant face.  
  
His name makes him human, again.  
  
He grabs his cup and, without a word, turns his back on her, heading to the door. Rey moves quickly, without knowing why.  
  
"Look," she says, as she picks up her cup of coffee. She waves Finn - who's currently looking at her with a shocked expression - goodbye as the two of them walk toward the door.

He - Ben, she tells herself, his name is Ben - is sipping on his coffee in his usual broody silence, but when they reach the door, he opens it for her, and waits for her to exit, before following her, without uttering a word. Rey is surprised, again - he didn't seem the kind of person to do courtesy at all, but, as always, he surprises her, showing a side of himself that she didn't think it existed before.

She tries to recover from her stupor, biting down on her lips. "Look, I'm sorry about the flowers and the whole BB8 thing".  
  
He shrugs, one hand curled around the warm cup of coffee, the other lost in the pocket of his long, dark coat - a striking contrast with the pastel hue of his uniform, but a contrast that somehow suits him. He seems to be made of sharp edges, but there's something soft in the curve of his lips. "It doesn't matter" he says, taking a sip of his coffee and looking away from her.  
  
Rey stares at him, blankly, and raises an eyebrow. "You lectured me about it for, like, an hour and you even threatened BB8, I think it _does_ matter" she tells him, wrinkling her nose at the thought. There's something on his face, as she speaks - something that turns his sharp, cutting features almost soft, and there's a faint blush on his cheeks, a sudden rush of color that makes him real, not a ghost but a human being. "Look, I can pay you back the flowers. I'm sorry, really. I just-" she sighs, biting down on her lips again, trying to find the words for what she's trying to say. She's not sure she even knows what she wants to say. "I am sorry," she repeats, stupidly, staring up at him.

 Why is even so important that he accepts her apology, she doesn't know, but she suddenly realize it is. She wants to - talk to him, maybe. Not glare or frown or shout, but just - talk. _Blame it on the existential loneliness and desperate wish to fix things you carry around with yourself_ , she tells herself, _blame it on the scars the Jakku left you._  
  
He shrugs again, shaking his head. A strand of hair falls on his forehead as he moves, and he passes a hand through it to fix it, glancing at her. "It's not worth it, really" he replies, drinking his coffee but keeping his eyes on her, and before she can insist or protest or just say something, he speaks again. "So, how's your dog?"  
  
She wrinkles her nose again. "For the last time, BB8 is not my dog" she says, taking a sip of her coffee and tasting the sweet texture of caffeine on her tongue. She probably has an addiction, but she doesn't care - as Poe says, coffee is a mean of survival.  
  
He makes a sound that could almost pass for a laugh - and it's surprising. He's not exactly laughing, but his shoulders shake a bit, and there's the tentative of a smile hanging at the corner of his lips, and Rey looks at him, wonder in her mind as she takes in the scene. It's almost unsettling, but in a pleasant way.  
  
She realizes it's the first time she sees him like this - spontaneous and carefree, something that goes beyond that façade of control he has build for himself. He seems almost nice, like this, and there are wrinkles at the corner of his eyes that make him look younger.  
  
"Fine," he says, as he recovers, biting his bottom lip to stifle back a laughter. Oh, it feels nice, to know he's capable of doing so, even if he doesn't let himself loose. "How's that little criminal you keep in your studio for unknown reasons?"  
  
She chuckles, lightly, and she catches his gaze on her, the way his eyes linger on her face, and study her, almost as if he was trying to memorize this image. A faint blush comes up on her face at the thought, and she brushes it off bringing the cup to her lips again, taking another sip.  
  
"He's fine," she says, after a moment. "I'm keeping an eye on him, but he's just been chewing on things, as usual" she adds, shrugging, and really, it should be nothing, it's nothing - but they're having a conversation, a real one. They're talking like normal people, not just nodding at each other, but speaking and laughing without tearing each other apart. That's definitely surprising. That's something she didn't think possible the day they met. She recalls the last conversation they had in front of his shop - the way he had brushed off her comments, curt and detached as usual, but with a blush on his face that betrayed what he was thinking. Rey almost smiles.

They're _talking_.   
  
This guy - Ben, she tells herself - takes a lot of his time to build a mask out of his face, but then he looks at her and she smiles at him, telling him something nice, and the masks comes off, showing a blushing boy underneath it.  
  
"Not my flower, I hope," he says, and he tries to deliver it with a blank expression, but his deep voice betrays the hint of humor in his words, and Rey smiles, but grimaces too.  
  
"That was one time!" she exclaims, and then he snorts, but it sounds almost like a stifled laugh. He's really something, she tells herself - something almost feral, a wild animal that turns tame, sometimes.  
  
They stay in silence for a while, drinking their coffee, and Rey realizes only in this moment that they've been standing right outside The Resistance for the whole time, neither of them making even an effort to walk to their respective shops. It should be awkward, but, instead, it's just nice - he's silent, and quiet, and when he speaks, he doesn't say too much, and it's almost a blessing to Rey, who's been used to loneliness all her life, and sometimes is overwhelmed by Poe's lively affection and Finn's ease and kindness.  
  
This guy - Ben, she repeats in her mind - is something akin to her - someone who gravitates around her at the right distance, not too close but not too far away either. She's surprised by the quiet comfort she feels in his presence.  
  
"I'd better go," he says, after a while, and Rey notices the blush on his pale cheeks, and really, it should make him ridiculous, but instead, he's almost cute, in his own sharp, intense way. She remembers the way he had looked right outside his shop, cheeks burning, pointing his finger at BB8, and a soft smiles comes up on her face. "My uncle is probably wondering where I've been".  
  
Rey blushes too, even if she wishes she didn't. "Oh, sure," she says, stupidly, and then gestures in the vague direction of the studio. "I should go, too".  
  
He nods, pressing his lips together and staring at his shoes again, suddenly very awkward and insecure. Rey studies him, watching his face change as he seems to reach a decision. "See you around," he tells her, and then in a moment he's turning away and he's crossing the street, disappearing into his shop, as quick and sudden as ever.  
  
Rey stares again, her coffee almost cold in her hand, and wonders what even passes through his mind.

*

It goes like this.  
  
They close the shop almost at the same time, and the chill air of the evening envelopes them as they drag the shutters down, lock it, and raises to their feet again. It's an habit, something that feels almost written in her bones, and she feels him, beside her, a presence both reassuring and unsettling.  
  
The streetlights cast odd shadows on his face, illuminating just half of it, leaving the rest in the darkness, and he looks like a painting like this, something luminous that stands out against a stark background. His sharp cheekbones and the cutting line of his jaw are almost softened by the dim light, and Rey looks at him, almost trying to memorize him.  
  
He's wrapped in his dark coat, the scarf around his neck almost blending with his hair, under this light, and he presses his lips together as he nods into her direction, silent as always, almost hesitant.   
  
Rey nods too, with a small smile on her lips. "Hey," she says, as usual, the sort of greeting that has become a habit between the two of them.  
  
"Hey," he replies, briefly, but something flickers on his face - the hint of an emotion, something similar to quiet happiness.

"It's getting cold, isn't it?" she asks, hugging herself and feeling pretty stupid about it. She's talking about the _weather_ , for God's sake, and she blushes under his gaze, trying to understand what he's thinking of her. Maybe he thinks she's pathetic, dragging a conversation like this, but his face is as unreadable as always, and if he finds her desperate and pathetic, he doesn't show.

"Yeah," he replies, quietly, his gaze following her with an intensity that is almost burning. Rey finds that she doesn't mind the cold anymore, after that.

They don't say anything else, as Poe and Luke exchange few words, but they look at each other, and Rey can swear there's a smile on his lips.

*

It happens one day.  
  
She's early as usual, the sun still rising slowly in the sky, painting the whole world in shades of pink, making everything kinder, gentler. A city of soft edges. It's nice, but the air is getting colder, and before she realizes, she's shivering, hugging herself in hope to preserve some kind of body heat.  
  
It doesn't work.   
  
She feels her teeth clatter as she trembles, and she looks around, searching for a shelter. The Resistance is still closed, as usual, and Poe's nowhere to be seen. All the other shops on the street are shut, so she sighs, shrinking in her coat and frantically moving her hands on her arms, almost as if she could produce a spark of warmth like this. Maybe they will find her frozen body like this, still hugging herself. She's even starting to miss Jakku and its scorching sun.   
  
Her fingers are starting to become numb, when she notices him. He makes his way toward the shop as usual, almost stomping, staring at the ground with an intensity that would make her shiver, if she wasn't already a trembling mess.   
  
"Hey," she tells him, as usual, as he reaches his shop, but it comes out almost as a wheeze, her voice barely audible in the quiet morning light. She tries to smile, but her face feels frozen, and she doesn't know if she actually manages to move her muscles. She doesn't want to know, to be honest. She already feels pretty pathetic, standing in her too light coat in front of her shop, shivering and rattling her teeth as he watches her with a surprised expression.  
  
He stares at her for a second - his eyes are not still, this time, but they take her whole frame in, trailing up and down her body as he seems to think about something. Rey stares back, but it doesn't feel weird - it's not like he's checking her out, it's more like he's assessing the situation right in front of him, before acting.

And then, his mouth curves, and he surprises her. "Want to come inside?" he asks. His voice is deep and controlled as usual, but there's a hint of something different that Rey can't quite catch.  
  
She blinks, confused, and furrows her brow, looking up at him while her cold-frozen mind tries to process his words. "What?" it's the only thing she manages to utter, her lips almost blue as she stares at his questioning face.  
  
"What?" he asks, in response, raising an eyebrow and looking at her as if he's trying to read in her mind something she doesn't understand. "You must be freezing," he tells her, nodding into her direction, and well, she can't really reply or protest, because he's right. "There's heating inside, you can wait here for your boss," he finishes, pointing at his shop, as he unlocks the door in a swift motion - a procedural gesture by now, weeks of work etching in his bones.  
  
Rey is surprised again, but she hasn't the strength to register her stupor. She just stares at him, and then she almost flings herself at the door he's keeping open for her. "Thank you," she says, and it comes out almost as a whimper, as the warmer air of the shop envelopes her. Oh God, it feels so nice.  
  
She hears him chuckle, but she can't see his face, because he's giving her his back as he turns on the light and the heating system. It takes a minute or two to kick in, but then the shop gets even warmer and Rey almost moans.  
  
To be honest, she does moan.  
  
He turns into her direction, looking at her with a blush on his face and widened eyes, lips slightly parted as his cheeks redden, and other times she'd blush and apologize, but right now it is so nice to feel her fingers again and she doesn't care about anything else.  
  
"I'm sorry, I can't raise it higher for, you know, the flowers," he says, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the wall of flowers around them. He sheds his coat and places it on the counter, not looking at her, and it's the first time she fully sees him in normal clothes - he's wearing black jeans and a black sweater, and the outfit somehow suits him, making him look like a spot of darkness against the colorful brightness of the flowers behind him.  
  
"It's more than okay," she replies, studying him and the way he moves around. He seems somehow at ease here, almost as if the shop was a shield behind which he can protect himself. Rey smiles at the thought. "It's been years since I've moved here and I'm still not used to this kind of weather. It always takes me by surprise. You probably saved my life here".  
  
He turns to face her, a sort of smirk on his lips as he looks down at her. "Anytime," he says, and there's irony in his voice, something still new and delicate between the two of them. Rey is surprised by this odd man, by the way he carries himself and hides behind a semblance of control and fury and fierceness, but then crumbles when she smiles at him, blushing and stuttering.  
  
He makes her smile, somehow, and it's new and unexpected, but not unwelcome.  
  
They stay in silence for a while, and it's a bit awkward as she feels his eyes on her, but it feels natural too - they both are quiet, and they don't feel the need to talk to cover up the silence. It's nice, being able to stay silent with someone.  
  
She looks around, taking in the shop. She has never been inside, Rey realizes. She has helped Luke closing it, and she had chatted with him sometimes just outside the door, but the shop itself is a whole new world, full of colors and scents she can't quite trace back. She has never seen so many flowers all in one place.  
  
It looks like something taken out of a fairytale, flowers cascading from the walls of the small room, flowers blooming all around her, flowers behind him as she smiles. It's almost unsettling - she didn't even know there were this many flowers in the world.    
  
"It's nice here," she says, looking back at him. He's been staring at her, but she finds herself okay with it - it's not uncomfortable, he's not checking her out or creeping on her. He's just studying her, and there's something soft in his eyes as he does, almost as if he was trying to adjust around her, to let her in, in the shop, to let her wander around him. He seems so guarded and defensive, but now he looks almost comfortable with her there. "The shop," she adds, gesturing toward the flowers, as he raises an eyebrow, questioning. He does that often, she realizes, almost as if it was his only way to ask a question. "I had never been inside. It's really nice".  
  
At that, he shrugs, looking around as if he was seeing the shop for the first time. "Yeah," he says, after a minute, but his voice is unsure. "I suppose. I had never thought about that" he adds, his hands into the pockets of jeans, looking at her beneath his lids.   
  
Rey is surprised by the vulnerability he's showing her - there's no mask, no façade right now, there's just him. Ben, she reminds herself.  
  
"That's not really your thing, isn't it?" she asks, curving her lips into a soft smile and watching him, cocking her head to the side to better look at his frame. He's leaning against the counter, his long legs splayed in front of him, his hands into his pockets, and his hair falling slightly on his face. His eyes are soft, and there's no wall between the two of them.   
  
"What do you mean?" he asks, furrowing his brow in a confused expression. He looks puzzled, and he glances at her like he's trying to read the answer on her face.   
  
"Running a flower shop," she explains, looking around and then bringing her eyes on him, again. He almost looks out of place here, dark and broody and somehow different, but then, he looks right too. Like he belongs there, by some kind of twist of fate. "That's definitely not your thing".  
  
Surprisingly, he laughs. There's no pretending, no trying to disguise it as something else - he laughs, and it's surprising, but oh so nice. His laughter is as deep as his voice, and shakes something inside her. His face is all twisted into a boyish smile, one that makes him look really, really young, all crooked and soft at the same time. There are dimples at the side his face. He looks nice like this, she thinks.   
  
"No," he says, when his laughter dies down, but that sort of smile - innocent, young, real - still lingers on his face. "You're right. It isn't what I had in mind when I was a kid, but," he shrugs, looking around and pressing his lips together, as if to accept the reality in which he's living. "Well, life is what happens to you when you're busy making other plans, I suppose".  
  
It feels heavy, somehow. Rey supposes there's a lot behind those words, and she wonders what happened to him - what made him so intense and fierce, but also so soft and delicate and raw. She recalls Finn's words, on how he used to work for the First Order, on how he hadn't even a real name, and she feels an ache in her heart. She remembers Finn's desperation from those days, and it feels heavy to imagine this frightening and frightened guy go through the same things.  
  
Of course, she doesn't say any of that. Instead, she tries to lighten up the mood, giving him a small smile. "That's John Lennon".  
  
He seems almost surprised by her words, but then he laughs again, vulnerable and carefree. The way his shoulders shake it's almost a work of art to Rey, and she stares at him, enthralled by him and the way he moves when he thinks he's not being noticed. He's always so tense, his muscles stiff and rigid, but then he laughs, and he lets himself loose, and it's fascinating - it feels almost like a dance, as his shoulders tremble and he shakes quietly his head. There's grace, in those movements, and beauty.  
  
"You got me there," he replies, running a hand through his hair, with an usual gesture. He studies her for a minute, and then he bites his lips, before speaking again. He seems almost hesitant, and Rey's heart beats furiously in her chest at the thought. "What about you? Always wanted to be a tattoo artist?"  
  
It feels weird to be asked something, and Rey takes a minute to elaborate an answer. She has spent her whole life on her own, and nobody in Jakku ever took the effort to ask her something about herself, and even if things have changed and she has Finn and Poe and Rose and even Luke, it's still new to her, and it takes her by surprise. She feels her heart skip a bit for a second.  
  
"Kind of," she replies, shrugging, but a smile on her lips. She likes the quiet way he studies her, the way his eyes follow her movements and go soft when she smiles. It's the first time that being stared at doesn't make her uncomfortable. "When I was a kid, I just liked to draw. Then I grew up, and, you know, the whole teenage rebellion thing, and tattoos seemed this big thing for me and I decided that was what I wanted to do".  
  
It's the first time she tells so much about herself to someone - sure, she has talked to Finn about her life, and Poe actually took her in when she had nowhere to go, but she feels like she's baring herself in front of this quiet, strange guy, and for the first time she doesn't feel so vulnerable and scared in doing so.  
  
"That's really nice," he says, and there's tenderness in his voice, something that knocks her out for a minute. He seems to realize it, because then he blushes - the adorable pink on his pale cheeks she has learned to recognize so well - and brings a hand to the base of his neck. "You don't have any tattoo, though? At least, not that I have seen. I mean, not that I have seen much. In general," he adds, and his blush deepens as he stutters on his words.  
  
Rey smiles, but is actually surprised that he took time to truly look at her, studying her skin, her whole frame, in those few weeks they have spent staring at each other. "No, you're right" she tells him, slightly biting her bottom lip. "It never happened. I mean, when I was a teen I didn't have the money, and now I'm …" her words trail off as she realize she has shared more than she intend to.  
  
But he seems captured by her, and by her words, and when she goes silent, he gently nudges her. "What?" he asks, kindly. He's tilting his head, leaving uncovered a portion of his neck, and she finds herself unable to tear her eyes away from the place where his hair brushes against his skin, lightly, in soft waves that have her wondering how would that feel like under her fingertips.  
  
She shakes her head, trying not to think about it. "I'm waiting, I think. I want the first tattoo to feel right" she says, in the end, and then she winces, wrinkling up her nose. "Sorry, that was cheesy".  
  
He chuckles, softly. It's such a nice sound - so sweet and tender, almost boyish. He reminds her of childhood innocence, and the beauty of something simple. "Not at all," he replies, and he's gentle, his deep voice almost a caress. Rey can't believe this is the same man who barged into her studio with BB8 in his clumsy arms and a frown on his face. "It's nice. Don't lose that".  
  
He says that with a sort of soft intensity, like he somehow wants to protect her - protect her from anything life may throw her way. She smiles, knowing far too well she can protect herself just as well. But it feels nice, all the same. She wonders for a moment if that's something he wished someone had done for him - to protect his boyish smile and blushing soul from whatever had happened that made him like that. But then she brushes the thought off.  
  
"Thank you," she says, pressing her lips together as she watches him, almost studying him. The next few words come up almost automatically to her lips. "It's weird, seeing you like this".  
  
He stiffens for a moment, and Rey curses herself - she knew she would ruin it somehow, because that's what she does. She's too stubborn, too forward, too _herself_ to enjoy things the way they are, and she ends up spoiling moments and missing opportunities.   
  
But then he relaxes, and sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I know. I suppose I've been a bit of an asshole to you" he says, looking away from her for the first time. He stares at his shoes for a moment, before he manages to look up, and when he meets her eyes, he's open and vulnerable and it makes her heart ache. "I'm sorry," he tells her, and there's such a raw honesty in his words that Rey is almost scared by his intensity. His apology echoes in the small shop, and his eyes are flames that consume everything in him. "I'm not that great with people, and my last workplace wasn't exactly keen on human interaction, so," he explains, putting his hands in his pockets again, shrugging and breathing deeply, almost as if to calm himself. "I am sorry".  
  
Rey watches him, playing his words in her mind. She can see him - truly see him, a frightened caged animal who's learning to live in the open again after so much time spent in captivity. She thinks about the First Order, the terrible marks it has left on Finn, and she wonders how did it truly help Ben to stay on top of it.  
  
Without even realizing, she's moving - one second she was right next to the door, and the next she's in front of him, the shortest distance between the two them she has ever felt in these weeks. He seems almost terrified, and he flinches - something that breaks her heart and shatters her soul, but she smiles at him, kindly. He reminds her of a startled animal she's trying to reassure.  
  
"Well, you're apologizing. It's a start," she tells him, smiling up at him. Standing so close to him, it's difficult to look him in the eyes without tilting her head back, but she manages somehow. He looks very vulnerable and real in front of her, and it almost breaks her heart, even if she doesn't know why. She's shorter and surely not as strong as him, but he looks at her like she could cut him open and strike him down, and the fear she reads in his eyes is too much, almost suffocating. She has to breathe deeply, before speaking again. "And I suppose I haven't been very charming either. I'm sorry too." she adds, honest and reassuring.  
  
He looks at her with such a mixture of hope and fear in his eyes it burns everything around them, and she can't understand him, but she longs to.  
  
"I'm Rey," she says, extending her hand toward him and smiling again at him. He seems uncertain, and for a moment she thinks he'll brush her off again, but then he stretches out his hand and his palm brushes against hers and everything falls back together.  
  
"I'm Ben" he replies, as his fingers curl around the back of her hand, and hers do the same on his. He says his name like it's something he's still tasting in his mouth, something that doesn't come easy and normal as it should, but he's trying to accept it. Rey is reminded of the First Order, of how it had stripped him of his name to make him less than human, somehow, and she can understand the way his voice trembles, when he utters it.  
  
"It's nice to meet you. For real, this time," she says, and he laughs, softly. The way he squints his eyes makes her shiver, and he looks so at ease right now - so truly real, her heart almost jumps in her throat.   
  
"Yeah, it is," he replies, and his voice is tender again, brushing against her with the same gentleness his fingers brush against her skin with. It almost feels like he's stroking her soul, somehow, and she feels stupid for even thinking such a cheesy thing, but then he smiles, and she forgets about it.  
  
The moment is interrupted by the ringing of the door, and when she turns into the direction of the sound, she notices Luke standing in the doorway, with a surprised expression on his face, staring at them like they're some kind of event he couldn't predict.  
  
Ben pulls his hand away almost immediately, blushing furiously, and Rey does too, even if she doesn't know why - they weren't doing anything, it's not like Luke caught them-  
  
She doesn't finish that thought because she already feel her face burning from the embarrass, but then Luke smiles and quickly reaches the two of them. He pats Rey's shoulder in an affectionate gesture, before he speaks.  
  
"Ah, Rey," he says, giving her a kind smile, as usual. He looks again back and forth between the two of them, as if he's assisting at some kind of unexpected event, and then he smiles again. "You've met my nephew, Ben," he adds, pointing at the man standing before her.  
  
Yeah, she definitely has.   
  
"Yeah," Rey replies, blushing. She doesn't know why she does, but it seems inevitable, as Ben looks away from her, his hand at the base of his neck in a gesture she has learned to connect to embarrass and shyness. She finds him almost cute, and then she's blushing again. "I should go, Poe has probably arrived" she adds, before she does something very stupid and makes a fool of herself. "Thanks for the shelter".  
  
Ben chuckles again, and he briefly looks at her, his eyes hesitant and awkward as he tries to smile at her. "Anytime".  
  
When she arrives at the studio, Poe is waiting for her, looking at her with a questioning expression as he notices the red on her cheeks. "What," is the only thing he says, as she closes the door behind herself.  
  
"Nothing," she replies, looking away from him as she removes her coat. "I was just saying hi to Luke".  
  
Poe looks at her, suspicious, but then he says nothing, and Rey is very glad of that, because she doesn't think she'd be capable of talking about him -Ben - keeping a straight face.  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're getting used to it. Maybe one day you'll even make a decent bouquet," Luke jokes, but maybe that's the truth. Maybe he is getting used to it, adjusting to a life so different from the one he had before, a life in which breathing comes easier, and the days are not just a blur of pain and rage and desperation. The shop doesn't seem like a sort of prison anymore, but a state of grace - a grace he doesn't deserve, but that is shown him all the same. A grace that shines down on him, whether he accepts it or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for all your kind words and kudos and everything, really, I appreciate it so much!! andddd now we're back to awkward baby penguin Ben, hopefully trying to be less awkward!
> 
> i'm sorry for any possible mistake i edited this half-asleep and that's a thing you shouldn't do, ever. so please, if you spot any mistake let me know! now i'm gonna lie face down on the bed and sleep for the rest of the week

"You've reached Han Solo," the voice says, and he can almost hear the half smirk on his father's face as he utters those words. "Talk after the beep. Or don't, whatever".  
  
There's a beep, and then silence.  
  
Ben hangs up, and his hands tremble, as usual. He stares at his face in the bathroom mirror, and tells himself that is okay, that is alright, that one day will stop hurting so bad. All the words Luke has told him over and over again, trying to reassure him, trying to console him, trying to fix him.  
  
But that's the thing about words - if you don't believe in it, they're just that. They're just words.  
  
He wonders what he truly is - if he's still something people and time and kindness can fix, or if he has crossed the line between broken and irreparable.   
  
Ben sighs as he climbs into bed, and stares at the ceiling, hoping to find answers, but when he closes his eyes, he finds only darkness there.  
  
And the soft, phantom grip of gentle fingers on his wrist.

*

  
Despite everything, despite the trembling in his soul, the days are a little bit lighter once he gets used to it, and Ben is left amazed, watching his life unravel before his eyes and waiting for the moment everything will eventually break.  
  
Life has never been easy for him - even when it was good and simple, even when he was just a kid and his parents were together and they loved him, he had always felt like the weight of the whole world was on his shoulders, and breathing was just a thing he couldn't do, no matter how hard he tried. Anxiety, they had called it, but to Ben was just another monster under his bed, ready to devour him.  
  
It didn't matter how much his mother reassured him, or his father ruffled up his hair telling him he was still his champion - nothing of this mattered. They could not understand the way his lungs refused to work, or the way his spine broke under the weight he was carrying, or the shaking of his hands when he felt the door slam again. It was him, it has always been him - he is wired in the wrong way, a wrong note in a melody, a spot of blood against a white cloth. Sometimes, at night, he knows it's his fault - it's his fault everything went wrong, from his parents to his life, and he just wishes to be normal, for once.  
  
Desperate wishes of a desperate soul.  
  
Even when it was simple, life had never been easy. Ben knew that, he still knows that - so it's with a certain degree of surprise that he realizes how nice is to breathe without feeling like something is heaving your chest all the times. It's a new sensation that makes his skin tingle and there's worry in the back of his mind, of course, but also relief and wonder and surprise.   
  
It's still hard, of course - his voice faltering sometimes, his hands shaking, his mind going back to all the things he fucked up in the past, to all the things he's still fucking up now. To all the things he will eventually fuck up in the near future. After all, they're who he is - an endless chain of fuck ups, one after another, stretching all the way from his childhood to the present. He still can't talk to his mother, no matter how much he stares at her number or hears her voice, and when he catches Luke's gaze, there's still guilt in his heart. He listens to his father's voicemail over and over again, hoping to find some sort of solace there, but most of the times there's just a voicemail, and a burning urge to crack his skin open to get rid of all of it.   
  
But there's something new, too - a sort of luminosity hanging around him, a brightness he didn't think he could posses, an ease that feels so unusual, but so nice. "You're getting used to it. Maybe one day you'll even make a decent bouquet," Luke jokes, but maybe that's the truth. Maybe he is getting used to it, adjusting to a life so different from the one he had before, a life in which breathing comes easier, and the days are not just a blur of pain and rage and desperation. The shop doesn't seem like a sort of prison anymore, but a state of grace - a grace he doesn't deserve, but that is shown him all the same. A grace that shines down on him, whether he accepts it or not.  
  
She - Rey, he tells himself, her name is Rey, and he remembers the sweetness of her voice as she looked up at him, and the gentleness of her fingertips against his skin - greets him with a bright smile now, nodding in his direction and warming him up. Ben is still left surprised and terrified, but he smiles too, and he can notice the way she lights up, her dimples and freckles making a masterpiece out of her face. They just smile at each other, nothing more, but it feels nice, and Ben is glad, even if something jumps in his throat every time he looks at her - something that feels like a heart, something he thought he had lost a long time ago.  
  
He knows he will fuck this up too - it's a thought that never really goes away, an awareness in the back of his mind, a grim reminder of everything he has ruined over the years. But for a moment - bright and peaceful, like the quietness of the sunrise after the terrifying grip of nightmares and monsters - he allows himself to live it, to feel her kindness and her teasing, and the beauty of her smile, and when she reaches for him, for the first time he doesn't pull away. Something in him still wants to retreat in the shadows, but for a moment, he basks in the light, and, surpisingly, it isn't blinding or burning or terrifying. It's just that - it's just light.   
  
Luke notices, of course. He's careful around him, tiptoeing like he's walking on ice even when he jokes and tries to light up the mood, and Ben knows even Luke realizes how fragile this is - how unprecedented, how new, how delicate. He studies Ben with watchful eyes, and there's the hint of a smile on his lips every time Ben catches his gaze, and Ben wonders what he's thinking about.  
  
"You seem to be doing okay, kid," Luke says, one day. They're in their shop, silently fixing flowers and filing receipts, and Ben, sitting at the counter, turns to look at him, surprised. His uncle is watching him, his head tilted to the side, as if to better study him, and a gentle smile on his lips.  
  
"I am okay," he replies, pressing his lips together. It's not quite true - he's not okay, he's still broken and years and years of loneliness and pain and anger are not cancelled by few weeks of something that feels like peace, but it's something. It's a start, it's a step into the right direction. At least, he believes it. He knows he will take the wrong turn, eventually - Snoke's voice haunting him, telling him he's nothing more than a frightened kid who only makes bad choices -, but for now, it's something. It's something. "Well, I'm trying to be," he adds, because he doesn't want to lie to Luke, not when he has accepted him after everything he has done.   
  
At his words, Luke's smiles go soft, and Ben has to look away from him before something inside his mind screams and burns him whole. It's still difficult to believe someone could be kind to him, after everything that has happened. He had almost forgotten kindness was a thing that existed in the same world he was living in. His mind drifts to Rey, and the gentle way her words had brushed against him, and how her smile had found its way under his skin. It all feels new, and at night he lies awake in his bed, trying to accept it.  
  
Sometimes, it works. Other times, it doesn't, and a voice in his mind laughs at him, mocking him for even thinking himself worthy of such a kindness. But it's still something, it's still a starting point.   
  
"I know you are, Ben" Luke replies, quietly. His voice is gentle as his smile, and Ben can taste the bitterness of guilt in his mouth. He doesn't deserve his kindness, but he knows he doesn't matter - he will never deserve it, he just has to learn to live with that. It will take time, he tells himself, but it scares him to death to think about it. "I'm proud of what you're doing".  
  
The words hang in the air for a minute, before he can truly grasp them, and then he almost feels like choking. He doesn't know what making someone proud feels like - all his life, that was all he had wanted, to make someone proud. His mother, his father, his uncle, even Snoke - their faces flash before his eyes in a whirlwind of pain and anger, and all he can see is disappointment and rejection, and he's left choking, something heavy on his chest as he tries to breathe.  
  
"I don't deserve it," he whispers. His voice is barely audible, but he knows his uncle has heard him by the way he sighs. Ben doesn't raise his eyes, too scared to feel his gentle gaze on himself, but he knows Luke is looking at him, and he can't bear it. He wishes Luke screamed at him, telling him he was a disappointment, a failure, a mess. He could take that - he has handled that all his life, after all.  
  
What he can't handle is the forgiveness Luke is granting him. His kindness, his grace, a new start. Those are word he can't even pronounce, and they leave him shivering.  
  
"You're doing your best, kid, and that's all it matters," Luke replies, quietly, and he surprises him. Ben turns into his direction, and he's standing in front of the counter, holding the bouquet of flower he was preparing just a few minutes before, and smiling up at him, shaking his head. It feels like he's trying to explain something to a little kid, and Ben feels small again under his gaze, the child he was a long time ago, staring at his uncle as if he was the answer to all the questions in the world. "You've made terrible choices, you've messed up. I know that. But I also know that everybody deserves a second chance. No one is ever truly gone," he adds, and then he pats his hand, gentle and kind. "Learn to accept it, Ben".  
  
What surprises him the most it's the ease in Luke's words: _learn to accept it_ , just like that. It's not that easy - he feels unworthy and undeserving most of the times, and he wonders how Luke can even bear to look him in the eyes, but he feels the reassuring warmth of his hand on top of his own, and the kindness of his smile, and he breathes deeply, trying to calm himself.  
  
"Okay," he says, nodding to himself. It still feels like something is preventing him from truly breathe, but he's still alive, somehow, and maybe that's enough for now. Maybe surviving will suffice for now, and maybe one day he'll live. "I will try" he adds.

He knows it will not be easy - the notion of being a failure and a undeserving mess so etched into his mind, his soul, his bones that it's difficult to shake it off, years and years of people reminding him how terrible he was at everything ingrained in his brain. But he can try - that's all he has, really. An attempt.  
  
Luke smiles and lets go of his hand, grabbing a ribbon from the counter to close the bouquet in his hands. It's very pretty and delicate, white roses and red blooms - something nice and special he's wrapping with careful hands. They stay in silence for a while, and Ben tries to breathe again, slowly.  
  
Then, his uncle raises his eyes to look at him, and there's a sort of amused smile on his lips. "So," he starts, and his tone is different - he's not gentle or heavy anymore, he's almost teasing. Ben raises an eyebrow. "Rey".  
  
At the mention of that name, Ben goes completely red and he has to look away from Luke, because otherwise he will read the embarrass on his face. He clenches his fists and tries to breathe, before speaking. "It's not like that," he says, because really, it's not. She's cute and kind, and she makes him laugh in a way nothing ever made him laugh before, but it's not like that. It could never be like that. "She's just our neighbor".  
  
Luke laughs, shaking his head. "Well, she's a nice young woman," he replies, quietly, and Ben can't protest, because, well, he's right. Rey is nice, in her own way - she's nice in the way a butterfly knife is nice. She's something beautiful, but sharp and cutting, and still, her touch is almost soft against his battered skin, a blessing.   
  
He doesn't say anything, and his uncle notices. 

*

  
He's walking down the street to reach the coffee shop and buy his daily fix of coffee, when he's attacked by a swirl of warm colors and giddiness right outside the tattoo studio. It takes him a full minute to recognize Rey, messy hair around her face and a sort of desperation in the back of her eyes.  
  
"Hey!" she says, smiling up at him. She has her hands on his arms, and she's a lot closer than he's used to, and it's new, but it's not entirely unpleasant. He can see her freckles, and the way they cover the bridge of her nose, and he's enthralled by the magic of her curved lips, and her dimples. He blushes, furiously, and curses himself because he feels very stupid right now. "I need a favor," she adds.  
  
He raises his eyebrow, looking down at her with a questioning expression, trying to focus on her words and not on the way she looks at him. She seems to realize she's still holding him and she quickly lets him go, her arms falling at her side as she blushes, fixing her eyes on something behind him.

"What?" he asks, furrowing his brow as he observes her. "You're freezing," he adds, because she is, and he's got a talent for stating the obvious.  
  
They're right outside her studio, and she's shivering, her colorful sweater clearly not suited for this kind of weather without a coat, and her cheeks are pink and her shoulders are trembling, but Rey shakes her head, as if to say she doesn't care and she has more pressing matters to discuss.  
  
"You have to buy me lunch," she says, flatly, as if it was something she usually said. Ben looks at her, raising his eyebrow again, not quite sure he's following her.   
  
"Are you …" he starts, looking down at her and studying her face, and the way she stares back at him.  "Asking yourself out on my behalf?" he asks, in the end, because, well, he is an idiot.  
  
He blushes as his own words, and he notices the way she blushes too, a faint pink coming to color her already reddened cheek, making her freckles stand darker against her skin. She's adorable, like this, and Ben proceeds to curse himself because he can't afford to think like that.  
  
"What? No!" she exclaims, but she's looking away from him, and her cheek are still red. "Look, Poe is at a convention and I forgot lunch but I can't leave the studio, so …" her words trail off, as she slowly raises her eyes to look at him, hope hanging around her face.

She stares at him, expectantly, and Ben feels somehow shocked - he doesn't remember the last time somebody truly believed in him or trusted him enough to ask for his help. It's nothing, she's just asking him to cross the street and buy her lunch, it's really something trivial - but she's asking _him_ , and Ben has trouble coming to terms with this.  
  
He just stares at her, trying to process her words. "You can't leave? That's crazy" he says, looking at the empty studio behind her, where her (not precisely hers, but whatever) corgi is staring at them, as if they're some kind of funny show. "Can you even go to the bathroom?"  
  
To his surprise, Rey snorts. It feels almost like a strangled laugh, and he finds himself astonished - he didn't think he could be the kind of person who could make her laugh. He wants to be, he realizes.  
  
"I can. Please, just this once? I'm starving. Look," she pleads him, and then she does something weird - she grips his arm, and starts wriggling around, bringing a hand into the pocket of her very skinny, very nice jeans (he's not staring at her legs, _he's not_ ), until she retrieves a ten dollars bill. "Sorry, high waisted jeans are probably a creation of Satan himself," she says, letting him go, but he's still thinking about the way she was moving just a few seconds ago, holding onto him for balance. He is red by now. "Here's the money".

She hands him her bill, with a determined expression on her face. He doesn't take it - he just stares at her, eyebrows raised and his heart thumping furiously into his chest.  
  
"What do you want?" he asks, and he might have been a little bit too blunt and unable to phrase things right as always, because he notices her face falling, so he immediately speaks again, eager to please her and erase the sad expression on her face. God, he's in _trouble_. "For lunch, I mean. What do I get you?"  
  
Her face lights up as if he just handed her the solution for everything in the world, and she's bright and luminous like this, something he has never seen in all his life. "Just go to Finn and tell him it's for me. He'll understand".  
  
He chuckles, almost automatically because it feels easier when she stares at him like that, sinking his hands into the pockets of his coat. "It feels like I'm involved in some kind of drug smuggling," he comments, but he doesn't wait for her to reply. He just turns his back on her and crosses the street - but he can feel her eyes on him, following him into The Resistance. They almost carve a hole in him, and he finds himself different when she's around.   
  
The Resistance is warm and cozy as usual, and Ben finds himself almost out of place there, with his gloomy attitude and his dark clothes, but (he will never admit this out loud) he actually likes the place. He knows he must look like a pretentious idiot, coming here just to order black coffee, but this place feels - warm. It makes him think of home - not the one from his childhood, too cold and empty sometimes, but a sort of vague idea of what home must be like, and for the few moments he spends waiting for his order, he can almost delude himself to feel that kind of warmth.

The guy - Finn - looks at him with suspicion as he approaches the counter, and Ben can understand him, since he knows he doesn't look like the most agreeable person in the world. He's been curt with him, sometimes, and he curses himself and his inability to function around people, ten years in the First Order shaping him into something he loathes.  
  
"Yes?" Finn says, his gaze trailing up and down his frame, as if to take him in.   
  
Ben sighs before answering. "Rey sent me? For her lunch?" it feels like a question, and under his gaze, Ben feels very hesitant and unsure.  
  
Finn widens his eyes, blinking a few times and looking at him like he's waiting for the moment Ben crackles up and tells him he's joking. When it doesn't happen, he just nods. "Rey?" he asks, surprised, but he recovers fast. "Coming up right away, then".  
  
He watches Finn work around the counter for a minute, before he remembers why he actually was coming here for, before Rey attacked him and talked him into buying her lunch. "Add a black coffee on the side," he says, as Finn raises his eyes and stares at him. "For me" he adds, because it seems right to specify.  
  
Finn just snorts, and then proceeds to prepare his coffee. "I know. Man, do you even drink anything else?" he asks, then he seems to realize what he's said, because he widens his eyes and brings a hand to his mouth. "Sorry, it was stupid and-"  
  
Ben feels very weird to be on the other side of anxiety - he knows far too well how it feels to say the wrong thing to someone, and it feels weird to be that someone. "It's okay," he quickly tells him, trying to smile. It's still new, his face still trying to understand how to move its muscles in something that isn't born out of anger or pain, but it feels easier. "Black coffee helps me to stay awake, so," he adds, giving Finn a small, apologetic smile.  
  
He doesn't mention the fact that he needs it to stay awake because he spends most of his nights staring at the ceiling or lost in a nightmare. It doesn't feel like the kind of confession you make with a complete stranger, so he just stays quiet about that. Finn studies him for a moment, before shaking his head and smiling. It's not the brightest smile, but it's a smile nonetheless.  
  
"Yeah, can't argue with that," he says, shrugging and then handing him his order and Rey's. "Here. You know, you're a lot nicer when you don't frown".  
  
At that, Ben snorts. "Yeah, I've been told," he replies, thinking about Rey, and the way her face lights up when he talks to her like a normal person, and then his uncle who just studies him and tells him he's proud of Ben. It's all too much, he thinks, and he's waiting for the moment it will all bring him to his knees, into pieces, but for now, it's okay. "See you around," he adds, paying his check and exiting the coffee shop.  
  
He arrives at the studio with his hands full of food and coffee, and Rey has to hold the door open for him as he enters. "Food is here," he says, cheerily, and he can see the pure and simple happiness on her face, so bright and radiating it almost feels like a wave, pulling him in, and he doesn't even put on a fight. He lets her drag him in her ocean, and he's smiling, before he even realizes it. It's incredible how spontaneous it is to smile, when she's around. "I think there's also some kind of coffee abomination you like," he adds, handing her the paper bag with her lunch.  
  
"It's not an abomination," she replies, lightly punching his arm, and he stiffens, his body responding almost automatically before she realizes what she has done. "Oh God, sorry!" she apologizes, quickly, bringing a hand to his arm, almost as if to massage him. "I'm just so used to Poe and Finn and I-"  
  
He shakes his head, trying to elaborate a coherent thought. He fails, his mind trying to grasp the concept of a touch that isn't painful and not understanding it in the slightest. "It's okay" he tells her, and smiles. It feels weird - she obviously wasn't trying to hurt him, and Ben can't understand it - he can't understand the fact that he can be touched, even punched, in a way that doesn't want to cause harm. He has been a lot less gentle with himself, over the years - leaving bruises on his own skin, like flowers blooming just beneath his pale complexion - and the simple playful act of Rey punching him is foreign to him. It was just something so intimate and confidential and utterly affectionate that he has to recover from it. He doesn't remember what intimacy feels like anymore, and when he looks at Rey, he kind of wishes to know.   
  
But he can't think like that - she's something bright and pure and basically everything he's not, and she's just a stranger who's been kind to him and he will fuck this up too, eventually. He can't afford to think about the way her freckles draw constellations on her skin, but he doesn't seem able to shake off the thought.  
  
She moves away from him, smiling, even if her cheeks are red. "You forgot your money," she tells him, as she carries her lunch to her desk. He's still standing by the door, his coffee in his hand, and she grabs her ten dollars bill to wave it in front of his face, but he just scoffs.  
  
"Keep it," he says, shrugging, and sinking his free hand into the pocket of his coat. She tries to protest, of course, but he takes a sip of his coffee, before speaking again. "Save it. For the right tattoo at the right time," he says, and he feels cheesy and out of himself. He cringes internally - it feels like he's trying too hard, but she just presses her lips together and looks up at him, crossing her arms on her chest.  
  
"I'll buy you lunch next time, then," she says, determined, and there it is, the blush on his face, again. She always surprises him somehow, and he can't keep track of her - it feels like a battle he's always losing, like a fight in which she always knocks him out. She's something unusual to him, and he likes her for it, and he feels stupid and naive, to fall into this trap, but he can't help himself. "God, I'm starving" she adds, as she sinks into her chair and unpacks her lunch, her chewing machine of a dog wiggling his fluffy (now, that's a word he had never thought he could use) butt and trying to get her attention. Or her food. Rey wrinkles her nose in an adorable manner at the sight.   
  
Ben eyes the clock on the wall behind her, trying to look away from the all too cute scene in front of his eyes. "Well, it's half past three," he states, a little bit obviously as usual, looking back at her, who's raising an eyebrow now. "Why didn't you just knock on the shop? I mean, it was a two seconds thing, I'm sure your boss wouldn't have minded".  
  
She seems to immediately shrink at his words, and she looks so small and surprised he feels almost guilty, because that's something he never wants to see on her face - the realization of something bitter. He knows far too well how that feels, and it breaks him to see Rey trying to come to term with it, before speaking again. She presses her lips together, as if to gather up her thoughts.

"It didn't occur to me," she just says, in the end, shrugging. Her voice is very faint, barely a whisper. "I'm not used to ask for help, I mean." she adds, trying to smile.  
  
It feels like there's a whole world behind those few words - there's a lot she isn't telling him, a whole existence before he came into the picture, and Ben finds himself longing to discover it, to hear her talk, to unravel the mystery that is Rey. He wants to know her, he realizes. It's bad, he thinks, but he can't bring himself to care.  
  
He tries to lighten up the mood - which is weird, because, usually, he's the gloomy one in a conversation. "So you would have just starved if I hadn't walked by?"  
  
She laughs, and it's a beautiful sound, and he realizes he likes it - he likes to be able to make her laugh, and wants nothing in the world but hear her laughter everyday. It's a dangerous path he's walking on, but it feels nice and she's there, smiling, and for a moment caution is thrown out of the window.

"Basically" she replies, and he laughs too. It feels new and almost absurd, and his mind is still having trouble to accept it, but he does, and it's nice.  
  
"Give me your phone," he says, walking up to her desk before he realizes. She looks at him, frowning in confusion, but she hands him her phone with no protest uttered. Ben puts down his coffee on her desk, and he can't believe he's really doing this, but he tries not to think about it as he opens the pad and writes down a too familiar number. He hands her phone back, with a sort of smile hanging on his lips, and fear clouding up his mind as he opens his mouth. "That's my number. So you can just text me instead of starving".  
  
She stares down at her phone, then she looks back at him, disbelief on her face, and to be honest Ben feels the same - he can't believe he really gave her his number. It feels weird and scary and he retrieves his coffee, glad to have something to do to hide the tremor of his hands.   
  
Then, she smiles, and his whole world goes upside down. His stomach twists and his heart jumps in his throat as he watches her, and he knows he will never be able to forget this moment, not even in a thousand lives. _You're screwed_ , a voice tells him, but he tries not to think about it.

"Thank you," she says, putting her phone away and staring at him, almost as if she was truly seeing him for the first time. Ben wonders what she is thinking right now, and if she finds him pathetic or annoying or- "I suppose you've already eaten, but if you want to stay," she points at a chair on the other side of her desk, with a sort of smile hanging around her.  
  
Ben sits before he can even process what he's doing. "Uh, I-" he tries to say, staring at her and realizing she's staring back at him with a raised eyebrow and a little smile on her lips. "Thanks, I guess".

Rey just smiles, shaking her head.

He drinks his coffee as she starts to eat, and he looks around, taking in the studio for the first time. The last time he was here, he was too busy trying to wrestle a hyperactive corgi in his arms to appreciate this place, while now he can truly observe his surroundings and register it in his mind. It feels nice and warm and not how he expected a tattoo studio to be, honestly  - the walls are pastel nude, and there's a little bit of red and orange, but there's no graffiti or anything he expected. He knows tattoo studios are not actually sketchy places at all, but it still surprises him to realize how nice it is. 

It's nice, he realizes. He likes this place.  
  
"So," he starts, bringing his eyes back on her and taking a sip of his coffee. Rey glances at him, raising an eyebrow. "Why couldn't you leave? I mean, if your boss is away, why are you even open?" he asks, gesturing at the whole studio.  
  
She laughs, and she bites down her food before answering, and it all feels so nice, so domestic Ben has to remember himself this is just a random occurrence and it means nothing, otherwise his heart would just burst into his chest. Her corgi is sitting beside his chair, nuzzling his little head against his legs, and he tries to pet him, hesitantly, his fingers stroking the top of his head with care. The dog seems content, and Rey has a weird expression on her face that he would define almost tender, if that was a thing that existed in his life.

"Well, I have few clients of my own, you know," she tells him, nodding at the bulletin board behind her, where sketches and photos are pinned haphazardly. Ben notices it for the first time, and he finds very difficult to tear his eyes away, fascinated by the geometric shapes of her drawings. "And there are a lot of people who just come and book an appointment, so we have to stay open," she adds, shrugging. She takes a sip of her coffee abomination (it is an abomination, he won't accept other interpretations), before speaking again. "I don't mind it, though. I like it here".  
  
Something in the way she says that makes him feel some kind of warmth. There's a note in her voice that he finds almost surprising - a sort of belonging, like she has crossed the whole world to find a place she can call home. It feels nice, watching her face stare at the studio so lovingly, and he wonders what that feel like - to have a place to come back to.  
  
Ben tries not to think about it. "You've worked here long?" he asks, giving her a small smile. He's so curious about her - about the way she wrinkles her nose, the way she laughs, the way she bites down her bottom lip sometimes, before answering. He's curious about her life, and her personality, and he can't let this go, no matter how hard he tries.   
  
She shrugs again, and he's enthralled by her movements - it's all so spontaneous, she doesn't think about it, doesn't stress about it. She just moves, and to Ben, she's some kind of miracle. "I've been Poe's apprentice for three years, and then I got my license," she replies, pointing him the framed piece of paper that thrones above her desk. "And now I just work with him," she explains, smiling.  
  
He looks again at her sketches and her tattoos, and he's surprised by her - by this quiet, equally fierce and kind stranger who looked at him and made his inside coil up and his soul flicker for the first time in years. She has talent, he realizes. She's something special, something pure and brilliant, a thread of shining light spanning through this world.  
  
It's with that awareness in the back of his mind, that he speaks again. "And you don't want to open your own studio?" he asks, and he can already imagine it - her, thriving on her talent, getting the recognition she deserves.   
  
She sighs, running a hand through her messy hair. "Yeah, maybe one day," she replies, quietly, looking around. The way she regards her studio makes Ben wish he had something like that. "But I like it here, this is home for me," she stays in silence for a moment, before speaking again, and this time there's a sort of bitter smile on her face as she does. "Quite literally, since I used to sleep in the backroom".  
  
Ben is taken aback, and he glances her way, surprised, but Rey isn't looking at him. She stares at her desk, biting her lips and there's such a bitterness on her face that Ben can't stand it - he wants to reach out, to stretch out his hand, to place it on top of hers and tell her he understands, that is okay, really. He does nothing of that, because he's not able to.  
  
Instead, he stares again at her sketches, fascinated by the flowery patterns and the geometric lines. It's all very delicate and fierce at the same time, something that truly belongs to her, something that he can imagine her sketching - her hair tied back, her lips pressed together, her hands almost shaking from the fatigue.

"You're very good" he says, in the end, to break the silence. "Your tattoos. They're really beautiful".  
  
She seems surprised, and she raises her eyes to meet his. Ben smiles at her, and he tries to pour into this smile - painful, but a sort of pain he could get used to in a different way - everything he's thinking. Rey smiles back, and there's a sort of intimacy in the way she tilts her head to better look at him, almost as if she wanted to study him for a sketch. He feels very vulnerable when she's around, like she could strip him of his defenses and walls, and really, she does, and it's scary and frightening and it feels like she's something both so beautiful and obscure that he's fascinated and terrified at the same time.  
  
It's a whirlwind of emotion, and Ben doesn't truly know how he really feels, but she grabs him by his hand and pulls him into this abyss, and he doesn't protests.  
  
"Thank you," she replies, quietly, looking at him with her warm eyes, and it's in this moment that Ben realizes it - he likes her. He likes the constellation of freckles on her face, and her quietness, and the way her eyes shine when she speaks of something she loves, and her kindness and her fierceness.  
  
He likes her.  
  
It's not going to go well, he thinks. He's fucked up and he will fuck this up too, he thinks. It will only leave him shattered and cracked, he thinks. And it's true, all of it.  
  
But she smiles, and he forgets that for a moment.  
  
They spend the rest of her lunch break like this - talking, laughing, joking, and when he waves her goodbye, he feels like something in his soul is coming alive again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas is rolling around and Poe is adorning the studio with holly and mistletoe and horrible abominations that he insist on calling "Christmas decorations" by the time Rey realizes she's got a crush on Ben.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there must some kind of irony in writing about Christmas when here in Italy it's basically already summer and i'm halfway into turning into a puddle, thanks global warming i hate it. 
> 
> again, thank you for all your support!!

Christmas is rolling around and Poe is adorning the studio with holly and mistletoe and horrible abominations that he insist on calling "Christmas decorations" by the time Rey realizes she's got a crush on Ben.  
  
It's not a sudden revelation, it doesn't hit her in one blow, a bright supernova exploding in her heart, leaving behind a black hole - no, it's more like a thought coming into conscience, blooming under her fingertips like a gentle bud, bursting into life under the tender rays of sun.  
  
It's a bright December day, when she realizes it. She's waiting for him at The Resistance, as usual, and Finn is preparing her order - their orders, she thinks, with a little smile -, watching her with a shocked expression on his face, like he can't quite believe what is happening before his eyes, even if this has been going on for a couple of weeks now.  
  
Apparently, Finn is very resistant to changes.  
  
"I don't get it," he says, glancing back and forth from her to the little flower shop behind her through the shop window, and to her again, disbelief so easy to read on his face. Rey likes him for it - Finn is some kind of open book, and she can understand him so easily, reading his expressions as if his feelings were written all over his features and that's kind of reassuring and comforting. It feels nice, to trust someone so completely, to understand someone so easily and she still can't believe this is something she has in her life, but it's nice all the same. Maybe she will never get used to it - but it's okay. She owes this to the kid back in Jakku, who never had a friend before.   
  
"You say that every time," she reminds him, quirking her eyebrows, but there's a smile on her face. She can't help it, when it comes to the sudden changes happening in her life. Unlike Finn, she loves changes - all her life has been stale and monotonous, every lonely day identical to the other endless lonely days before, interrupted only by panic and fear. Now it feels like she's living, for the first time. "There's nothing to get, Finn. We just have coffee together sometimes, that's all" she adds, even if her heart threatens to thump furiously against her ribcage every time she thinks about it.  
  
But Finn shakes his head, incredulous, staring at her like he's still trying to process it all. He's been trying for a while, apparently. "It's just unexpected," he says, in the end, shrugging. "But I do admit he's nicer when you're around".  
  
Rey wishes she didn't blush at those words, but her wishes are not granted in the slightest - she feels her cheek turn red under Finn's gaze, and he chuckles, shaking his head again as she tries to recover from this. She doesn't ask herself the meaning of all of it, because she knows the answer will be something she'll have to face, eventually, and she's not ready yet. She's glad Finn doesn't mention it, because she wouldn't know how to explain it without turning into a blushing, stuttering mess.   
  
"Here's your orders," Finn says, handing her two warm cup of coffee, which have Rey sighing, the sweet scent of caffeine filling her lungs as she grabs them. "Convince him into drinking something beside black coffee, please?" he adds, with a chuckle. "It's almost depressing".  
  
Rey laughs, as she pays for her orders. "I don't think I have this power over him, Finn," she tells him, thinking about Ben, and the way he looks at her - a mixture of fear and longing in his eyes, as he follows her movements. The thought makes her shiver.  
  
But Finn stares at her, and he's serious when he replies, just the hint of a knowing smile on the corner of his lips. "I think you do".  
  
Rey is at loss, and she struggles to find something to say, but she's saved from finding an answer by the chiming of the door, and the unusual yet welcome presence of Ben right next to her in a heartbeat.   
  
"Hey," he says, giving her a smile, and his deep voice is somehow gentle. Rey is still transfixed by the way he changes when he's around her - she sees him, always, fixing flowers, helping his uncle, and there's a tension in his spine and on his lips as he presses them together, but then she smiles at him and he goes soft, and gentle and he seems almost to relax under her gaze. He doesn't stand so curved on himself when he's around her, and to Rey is the most incredible thing - how open and real he becomes, when he's here with her, so different from the man she had met that first day.   
  
She doesn't know how that's possible, and if she's even worthy of such a sight - but she loves the way he squints when he laughs, little wrinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes. It's something beautiful and delicate, and it makes her heart full and tight, and she would fight anyone and anything to see him like that everyday.  
  
The thought is scary, but not unwelcome.  
  
"Hey," she replies, smiling, and then she hands him his black coffee, tilting her head to better look at him, as he notices the cup in her hand. "Here's your coffee".  
  
He blushes, and Rey thinks the pink shade suits him. It makes him look younger, and softer. "You didn't have to," he says, as he tentatively curls his fingers around the cup, and brushes against hers for the briefest moment. Rey almost jumps, but she doesn't pull away - his skin is cool and soft against hers, and she likes the way her fingers tingle right where he has touched her. She aches to feel him again, and she has to steel herself before she does something stupid like taking his hand.  
  
_Don't react on impulse_ , she tells herself, but it's very difficult, when he looks at her like that - like she has just done something incredible and out of the ordinary, and he's fascinated by her and the way she moves. His eyes shine and burn her soul away, and Rey has to breathe deeply, trying to calm herself.  
  
She doesn't ask herself what that means. She can't ask herself, she just _can't_.  
  
"Shut up," it's the only thing she says, before nodding in the direction of their usual table. "Come on," she adds, looking away from him. She knows she's red by now, but she tries not to think about it.  
  
They sit at their table, as usual in these weeks. Rey is still trying to realize this is happening, and spends most of the time just looking at him, taking in the gentle way he smiles, his wavy hair that frames his face, the way he splays his long fingers on the wooden table, almost as if he was trying to reach for her. He looks at ease here, and at peace - there's no frowning or glaring, he just looks at her and smiles, almost as if the wooden surfaces and the smell of coffee and her presence enveloped him in some kind of bubble.  
  
In those weeks, spending their coffee break together, she has learned a lot about him - she has learned he hates the taste of milk on his tongue and that's why he takes his coffee black, that daisies are his favorite flowers ("It's simple, but nice," he has told her), that he used to be crazy about space as a kid and he still loves to watch the stars ("You can actually see it from here. There were too many lights in Coruscant, and not the ones that mattered," he had told her, watching her with a soft smile and a blush coming up on his face. Then, he had laughed, shaking his head. "That was cheesy, sorry") and that he's come to Naboo because his uncle had asked him to.

She has learned the way a wrinkle appears in the middle of his forehead when he's lost in his thoughts, the way his jaw clenches when he thinks about something that unsettles him, the way his lips quirk up when she makes a joke. She has studied his face, and the constellation of moles on his skin, and the way his hair falls down on his neck, and how his long fingers curl around the cup, and how he brings it to his lips. Rey has memorized every single detail she has noticed, storing it in a place of her mind that is entirely his, and for the first time her hands ache to find a pencil - she has never be fond of portraits, but there's something in the clashing of sharp features and warm eyes that has her longing, desperately trying to reach for him.  
  
They stay in silence for a few minutes, drinking their coffee and enjoying the beauty of sitting right in front of someone and not feel the urge to fill the silence. It's nice, and comforting, and Rey has never felt more at home in her life. She knows this is dangerous, but she tries not to think about it.  
  
It's Ben who talks first. "Can I ask something of you?"  
  
His voice is hesitant, almost verging on nervous, and when Rey turns to face him, he is fidgeting with his hands, taking deep breaths. He looks positively scared, and while this is something new, and Rey is glad he is comfortable enough to make himself vulnerable in front of her, she is somewhat surprised, and worried.   
  
"What, like a favor?" she asks, and then she shrugs, trying to reassure him, and make him understand that everything is fine, and he doesn't have to be afraid. Not of her, at least. She wants to stretch out her hand and take his fingers into hers, making him feel her steady heartbeat and telling him _yes, you can ask me anything_ , but she doesn't. The eagerness she feels in her heart scares her, and it makes her shiver, but, after all, it's nothing new - it's just something she has to live with. Sometimes it's easy, sometimes it's not, but it terrifies her all the same.  
  
She just gives him a small smile, trying not to think about it. "Sure, if I can do it".  
  
He shakes his head, and his hair moves around him in soft black waves. Something in her dies to card her fingers through those strands and pull them back, but she has to tell herself to stay put. Nothing good will come from this, she tells herself, but it's hard, when he looks so nice and soft and _close_. "No, it's not a favor," he replies, biting his lips and meeting her eyes. He smiles, tentatively. "It's more like a commission".  
  
This has Rey shocked. She stares at him, as if she hoped to find an answer written in the moles of his face, but Ben is not Finn, and he's not as easy to read. He's more like an ancient language she can't grasp completely, but she tries anyway, stumbling on the words but unable to give up. "What?" she says, in the end, once words seem to have a meaning again.  
  
He smiles, softly, but he's as serious and intense as ever when he looks her in the eyes. "I want you to draw a tattoo for me," he says, and his voice is low, almost a rumble, and it makes her stomach twist.  
  
Rey blinks a few times, before she realizes he's still waiting for her answer. "A tattoo. Me," she repeats, trying to elaborate this piece of information in her mind.   
  
At this, he laughs, and it's so nice she almost cries - he doesn't try to hide it anymore, he doesn't try to detach himself from her and make a mask out of his face. He's earnest and open, and he laughs at her shocked expression, and he's so real it makes her insides hurt from the beauty of it.

"Yes, you," he confirms, and his hand comes up on the table, right but not quite next to hers. It almost feels like he's trying to reach for her, but he's still holding back somehow. "You're talented. I've seen your sketches, and I thought you could do it," there's a brief pause, before he speaks again, and his eyes search her face. "Obviously, I'll pay you. I'm not asking you to work for free".  
  
She shakes her head, trying to understand and to recover from the surprise and the shock and his warm eyes looking at her like she's something out of the ordinary.

"Okay," she says. She closes her eyes, breathing in and out, and when she opens it again, she tries to be collected, but he's still looking at her like that - affection and warmth pouring from him, slipping through the cracks in his soul. He seems to barely notice it, but Rey - love-starved Rey, whose heart jumps and aches for something she never had, and always searches for in everyone she meets - can't help but long for him, and the gentle way he smiles. She tries not to think about it. "What do you have in mind?"  
  
He presses his lips together, again, as he taps his fingers against the table in an automatic gesture. The sound seems to ease his mind, and he relaxes a bit. He takes a sip of coffee, before answering. "I thought it could be a sort of tattoo sleeve," he explains, running a hand through his hair, a gesture she knows by heart by now. A strand of hair falls back on his forehead, and her fingers ache to fix it, but she clenches her hand into fists to prevent her from reaching out. "But, just my forearm".  
  
Rey nods to herself. Once the surprise has faded, she finds it pretty easy to follow him - this is her job, this is what she has done every day of her life since she was eighteen, and it's like slipping into something comfortable, like coming back home after a long trip. She is in control here - her mind is, at least, and not the eager creature in her chest. "What about the design?"  
  
Ben seems unsure, as if he didn't think he'd get this far and hadn't planned anything, but he smiles as he looks at her, easy and warm as usual. "I like your sketches. I'd like something like that. Geometric lines and a bit of flowery pattern?" he says, hesitant. Rey nods again, taking notes in her mind. "Just, no skulls, please. I know I look gloomy and all, but I'm not that emo," he adds, and his lips curve in an ironic smile.  
  
At that, she laughs, bringing a hand to her mouth to stifle her giggles. "Okay, no skulls," she mentally notes, even if she thinks he could pull it off, with his glaring and scowling and terrifying demeanor. But then, she catches his warm gaze and he smiles, gently, and she definitely crosses it off her list - yeah, he's too soft for it. "So, your whole forearm? How big it is supposed to be? Have you already got an idea?" she adds, eyeing his arms, trying to measure them in her mind.  
  
They're really nice arms, she realizes.  
  
He shrugs, but this time there's a sort of tension in his shoulder as he does, and she can see his jaw clench.

"I-" he tries to say, and he looks down at his arms, almost as if he hadn't realized they were there until now. He bites his lips, lost in a thought, and Rey stares at him, not sure of what to say. "Just big enough to cover something," he finishes, and his voice sounds almost shaky, even if he doesn't seem upset - just tense, something creeping in the back of his mind as he looks down at his hands. She wants to reach out, but instead she grips her cup of coffee to prevent herself from messing it up. "Something I have on my arm" he adds, biting his lipsagain, making them turn almost red. The tension in his shoulder is growing, and she wonders, eyes searching his face, when will it reach the breaking point  
  
She furrows her brow, unsure of how to go from this. "Oh, is this a cover up? Have you got another tattoo you want to fix?" she asks, and almost instinctively she holds out her hand, expecting him to show her his arm. "Maybe if you let me look at it I can-"  
  
Something breaks.  
  
"No," he interrupts her, and he's almost hissing now, his voice low and sharp, intense as the day they first met. Rey flinches, and pulls her hand away, but then he sighs and does something unexpected - he takes her hand into his, stroking the skin of her wrist with his thumb. It's gentle and soothing, and she relaxes, her heart almost crashing against her ribcage in desperate thumps. He seems to relax too, as he traces patterns along her veins with his fingertips, barely brushing against her skin, but leaving her out of breath. "I'm sorry," he says, and his voice changes.   
  
It's not intense and cutting anymore, but it's almost tired, defeated - like he's battling something in his mind, and he has finally given up.  
  
"Are you okay?" she asks, gently. Her fingers curl hesitantly around his wrist, and she caresses his skin, slow and reassuring, as if she's trying to untangle all the knots in his soul. "I just thought- I didn't want to upset you," she tries to say, eyeing him, and the way his face crumbles.  
  
He sighs, and he's different - he's not the terrifying guy she has met the first day, weeks and weeks ago, and he's not the Ben she has memorized in her mind, hesitant and warm. He's somehow different - a broken man, right in front of her. She had always known something in him was off, but watching him like that shatters her heart. He doesn't try to hide it anymore, and he breaks under her gaze, trying to breathe in and out and calm the erratic beat of his heart - a quick, rhythmic sound Rey can feel beneath her fingertips - and it feels new and unexpected, and heartbreaking.  
  
She holds his hand, and doesn't let him go.  
  
"Please, don't apologize. You did nothing wrong," he says, glancing up. There's a whole world inside his eyes, and she can't orient herself in it, but she wants to. She wants to know every corner of his soul, every turn of his heart, every block of his mind, and she's terrified by this knowledge, but she can't help it. "I thought I was ready to talk about it, but I'm not. I'm sorry," he adds, and there's regret in his voice, and something else - something that feels like anger. It's not the easy and simple rage of the day he barged in her studio with BB8 - it runs deeper, flowing in him, mixed with his blood. It seems to poison him.  
  
She strokes his skin again, following the line of his veins. There it is again - the idea of dealing with a frightened animal, ready to attack her or to run away from her whenever she gets too close. She keeps caressing his wrist, calming his mind.

"You don't have to talk about it," she tells him, her voice even and reassuring, a whisper for him to grasp and to keep it in his mind. "It's okay".  
  
But he shakes his head, looking down at their hands, their fingers brushing against each other's skin, mirroring each other. "No, I was … whatever that was. I don't want to be like that anymore. I'm sorry I lashed out, I wasn't supposed to-" he says, and he bites his lips again. Rey knows him a little bit by now, and she notices his expression - the way his face hardens when he's lost in a memory. She wonders if he's thinking about the First Order, or something else entirely. She has learned to know his manners and the way he carries himself around, but she knows so little about his life, and she aches to. She wants to know what made Ben the way he is - warm and gentle, but also terrified and intense. She doesn't know why, but he feels like a black hole, pulling her in and swallowing her whole. She doesn't even try to fight back, she just wants to get lost in him.  
  
She doesn't say anything - she just keeps stroking his skin, gently, slowly, until she feels his hand relax into hers, again.   
  
When he talks, he looks her in the eyes, and it undoes her completely. "It's scars," he says, simply, and there's a little smile at the corner of his lips. A smile of defeat, of exhaustion, but also of some kind of bitter victory. She raises her eyebrows, looking back at him. "The thing I want to cover. It's scars".  
  
The way he talks about it makes it loud and clear that he isn't referring to anything as simple as a childhood incident or something of that sort - the bitterness around his words seems almost to shake the world around them, and it's in this moment Rey realizes it.   
  
She likes him. She likes the softness of his smile, and the sharpness of his features, and the quiet way in which he lets himself loose in front of her, and his rage and bitterness and silent happiness when he smiles at her. She doesn't know why, and it scares her half to death, but she likes this weird, gentle and broken man, and there's nothing she can do about that.  
  
"It's okay," she tells him, holding his hand, almost gripping it to tell him she's not going to walk away. She's not - she's not sure she even can. "I will work on it. We will find something that'll suit you".  
  
His face changes again - hope flickers in his eyes, and he lights up, and it's so delicate it breaks her heart, but there's hesitation on his odd, beautiful features, almost as if he was afraid of letting himself feel that kind of hope. She tightens the grip on his hand, reassuring him.   
  
"Really?" he asks, and he looks just like a kid, eyes so big searching her face, almost scared, as if she could take this sudden rush of happiness away from him, as quickly as she had handed it to him. "I mean, thank you".  
  
She chuckles, lightly, still stroking his skin. She can feel his pulse under her thumb, and the way his heart seems to miss a few beats, before it speeds up again. It's something beautiful, and she watches his face in awe. "Yes, really," she nods, smiling at him, trailing her fingers along his veins. The shade of blue against his pale skin is almost haunting. "I'd really like to".  
  
His face breaks into a smile - it breaks, really, because it seems to be painful for him, like something is tearing him apart from the inside. But he smiles, and it's beautiful, and oh, how much she likes him. It's maddening and terrifying and it makes her breath hitch in her throat. It feels big, bigger than anything she has ever felt, and a part of her wants to run away, but instead, she holds his hand and doesn't let him go.  
  
He walks her back to her studio, looking down at her like she's something special, and Rey's heart hammers in her chest, making it hard to breathe.  
  
"Thank you," he says again, as they stand right in front of the door, and the words seem weird on his lips, like they're something he doesn't quite know how pronounce, and he's still learning. "I'm sorry for how I acted".  
  
She tilts her head again to look him in the eyes. "It's okay," she tells him, smiling, a warm and soft smile, made for reassuring him. His eyes follow her movements, fascinated. "I know what is like to have issues. I get it," she adds, and, before she can talk herself out of it, she reaches for his hand. She intertwines their fingers under his surprised gaze, and when he doesn't pull away, she squeezes his hand, trying to pass on her warmth and her certainty. "Whenever you're ready, I'll be here, if you want me to".  
  
Ben is shocked, and for the first time she can read every emotion that passes on his face - surprise, fear, hesitation, and hope. The last one settles on the curve of his lips, and in his eyes, as he looks down at her, and he just nods, squeezing back her hand.  
  
Rey smiles, and for a moment, everything shines.

 

*

  
She is working on the design for Ben, lips pressed together and hair tied back and a sort of warmth hanging around her that has nothing to do with the sweater she's wearing or the heating system, when Poe walks through the door with a cup of coffee in his hand and a dumbstruck expression on his face. She nods into his direction, and turns back to her design, but Poe just stands there, without moving or even seeming to notice his surroundings.  
  
A few minutes pass like this.   
  
"So," Poe says, in the end, and Rey wouldn't look up at all, but his voice sounds almost verging on panic, and this is so unusual for Poe, so calm and collected, that Rey raises her eyes in a heartbeat, just to find him looking down at his coffee with the face of a man who has lost the will to live and he's trying to find it in the coffee grounds.  
  
"So?" she asks, raising her eyebrows, positively puzzled by his strange behavior. When Poe doesn't reply, Rey starts to get worried and her first response, ingrained in her brain after years and years in Jakku, is to check him for any sign of injuries - but he seems to be okay. Except for his face, which looks like he has just walked through hell and back. "Poe, is everything all right?"  
  
Poe is still looking down at his coffee, when he replies. "I might have accidentally asked Finn out?" and now his voice is way past panic - it's incredulous and shocked, and he's staring at his cup in disbelief, as if the cup could give him some sort of answer. The cup, of course, does not, and they stay in silence for a few seconds.  
  
It takes a while for Rey to fully understand what Poe is trying to say, and then she smiles, radiant, not even bothering to look a little bit less enthusiast. "That's good!" she says, and then she frowns, replaying Poe's words in her head and still trying to process them. She cocks her head to her side, staring at him questioning. "Wait, how do you accidentally ask someone out?"  
  
Poe sets down his coffee on his desk, and sheds his coat, placing it on his chair in automatic gestures. His expression is still astonished, as if he was trying to make sense of the situation in the first place. He probably fails.

"I don't know," he says, his voice still shocked and flat, emotions compressed in the back of his mind, ready to burst. "We were talking about pizza and I told him I know a great place and then I asked him if he wanted to come with me after work?"  
  
As he talks, he progressively gets more panicked, and by the end of the sentence he's practically exploding from all of it.  
  
He isn't looking at her, so Rey can't see his face anymore, but she tries to get a glimpse of him anyway, before talking. There's no trace of sadness or hurt on his face, he's just - shocked, which is weird for Poe, but it's still good news in the end.

"And what did he say?" she asks, gently, even if she already knows the answer. There's no way on Earth Finn hasn't said yes to Poe asking him out - the poor guy has been pining after him for the best part of the year. They both have. Rey has clear, distinct memories of Rose and her on the verge of slamming their heads against the wall, watching the two of them awkwardly dance around each other, smiling and blushing and being totally oblivious of each other's feelings. That's not something you forget easily, Rey thinks.  
  
Obviously, Finn has said yes.  
  
Poe sighs, turning to face her. His eyes are wide and his feature are still shocked, trying to grasp the situation and make sense of it.

"He said yes," he replies, and then on his face pass so much emotions Rey can't actually keep count. He goes from shock to fear to resignation to something she can't quite pin but that makes him look younger and less Poe-ish. "Oh my god, Rey. He said yes" he adds, taking his face into his hands.  
  
This is really weird.  
  
She has been waiting this day for a long time, nudging Poe and Finn, encouraging them, rolling her eyes at them - but she did not expect Poe would be freaking out like this. He's always been so charming and self assured, making clients swoon and Finn blush. To see him like this is truly weird.  
  
Rey is having trouble following him, so she just stares at him, frowning, trying to understand him. She is not a big expert on relationships, and the whole world of liking someone is uncharted territory for her - and her heart does a weird twist in her chest thinking about Ben, and how she will eventually have to face it -, so she just tries to decode this situation with the means she has.

"Isn't that supposed to be good?" she asks him, and then, when he doesn't reply, she raises an eyebrow. "I mean, I'm kinda rusty about the whole dating thing, but when you ask someone out you want them to say yes".  
  
Poe makes a noncommittal sound, and then looks up at her. There's something on his face that resembles fear - something she has never seen in him, something that leaves her wondering how powerful love and emotions can be. The depths of it leave her terrified, but she realizes, with a jolt, it's too late now. She has stepped in it, and now she is being dragged into the abyss, knowing far too well the consequences.  
  
"I just," Poe sighs again, and when he looks at her, he almost seems a scared little kid, and this leaves her hesitant and unsure. Rey has seen Poe make a lot of faces over the years, but seeing him so vulnerable and afraid is somehow new, and she doesn't know how to help him. "What if I mess it up?".  
  
She tilts her head, watching him, studying his face and the way he carries himself. Poe is always been this flaming ball of energy, always ready to smile and tease her and, of course, he's been serious and worried sometimes, but she has never seen him so tense and scared, and it's like she's meeting a new person, someone who was hidden under layers of smirks and happiness, and simple, easy-going Poe. She is surprised, but she's not displeased. She likes this hesitant Poe, whose emotions are so strong she can feel almost radiate from him. It feels nice - she has never felt that kind of warmth she can see in his eyes right now.

"You really like him, don't you?" she asks, smiling up at him.  
  
Poe bites his lips, but then his face breaks into a little, tender smile as he turns to stare at the coffee shop across the street. Finn is scribbling something on the blackboard right outside, crouching, the hesitant winter sun shining down on him, kindly, and Poe is looking at him with such a sweet smile, soft and gentle, that Rey is surprised, and her heart does that weird thing in her chest again - it tightens, and it's painful, but the sort of pain that doesn't really leave scars, and you remember with a small smile on your face. A bittersweet taste takes hold of her mouth, but, all things considered, it feels nice.  
  
This is what love feels like, she thinks, but she's not sure - she has always just watched it from afar, with trembling hands and starved heart. But it's nice all the same, and when she looks at Poe, her heart twists and jumps in her throat, and she knows she's happy for him. What a weird discovery - that you can care so much about someone that you are happy for them. Rey is still amazed by this turn of events. She never had someone to be happy for, before.  
  
"Is that so obvious?" Poe asks, after a while. To that, Rey chuckles, lightly, because yes, it is so obvious - the way he cares about Finn shines from him, and warms up the whole studio, painting them in shades of red and orange and all the colors she imagines love in.

He turns into her direction, surprised, but then he smiles and laughs too, maybe realizing how foolish that question was, and finally the tension on his shoulder seems to disappear for a moment. He looks like Poe again, the one she has known for years, the one who took her in when nobody even cared for her, but there's something new in him, a vulnerability that wasn't there before, a softness that makes him gentler.

He smiles, when he talks again, but the smile is somehow both new and familiar - a new detail in something she knows by heart. "Yeah, I really like him and I don't want to mess it up".  
  
She smiles, softly. "You won't mess it up," she tells him, firmly, because she already knows it - Poe and Finn are so smitten about each other nothing could mess it up at all. Poe sighs and bites his lips again, alternating glances between her and Finn, who's now disappearing into The Resistance again. Rey sighs too, shaking her hand. "And I think Finn likes you too, so, yeah, it's going to be fin,e" she adds, biting her tongue, because telling him Finn has probably scribbled their names on his journal is a bit too much for Poe.  
  
Poe turns to face her, eyes wide and lips parted as he repeats her words, trying to process them in his mind. "He does?"  
  
At that, Rey doesn't know how to react and stares blankly at his shocked expression. Is Poe that oblivious about Finn's obvious crush on him? Has he just missed the multiple times Finn has hinted something and blushed and scribbled his name on Poe's cup followed by a smile or a heart?   
  
Rey wouldn't be surprised, to be honest. Poe is warm and loving and gentle and everything nice, but maybe he can't really understand things when Finn is involved. She supposes it's something inevitable when it comes down to love - it clouds up your mind and makes you blind to the obvious.   
  
She sighs. "Yes, he does, Poe," she confirms, nodding, and she can see him blush - he goes totally red, and stares at her with a surprised expression on his face, almost as if he couldn't believe her. She chuckles again, shaking her head, preventing herself from grabbing him by his shirt and just shake him, asking him what has he been paying attention to. She does not. She just breathes. "Just relax and try to have a nice night," she adds, smiling calmly.  
  
Poe seems to think about it, then he must reach some kind of agreement with himself, because he nods. "Yeah," he says, walking up to her desk to pat her shoulder, in an usual Poe gesture. "Yeah, I'll try. Thank you, kid," he adds, messing up her hair.   
  
Rey is really happy for him, she tells herself, so she doesn't even scowl at him, and just fixes the bun on her head, trying to reach as many strands as she can, as she focuses again on her design.  
  
She shrugs, as she reaches for the pencil, again, eyeing Poe. "Always ready to share my wisdom," she says, smirking up at him, and Poe laughs, throwing his head back, just like a little kid - just like the energetic, unstoppable Poe she has known for years.  
  
It feels like home - it feels like safety and love and warmth and all the thing she has discovered here, with Poe and Finn and even Ben. After years of loneliness and isolation, it's almost overwhelming, but in a good way.  
  
"Hey, that's nice," Poe says, when his laughter dies down and he peeks at the design she's working on, a hand still on her shoulder. She doesn't protest - it feels nice, and it speaks of affection and ease and she's smiling. "New client?"  
  
Rey makes a non committal sound, looking down at the piece of paper under her hands, and staring at it, frowning - she knows she's being pathetic about it, but it always feels like it's missing something and she can't quite pinpoint what. She has never felt this kind of pressure before - and it's not coming from Ben, it's all from her. She wants this to be good and perfect and nice and she wants to make him smile, to reassure him, to help him cover the scars he's so scared of, and the thought always flashes in her mind, making it hard to really work on it.  
  
She sighs. She's being pathetic because she likes him, and she doesn't actually know how to like someone. That's the truth, and she can't avoid it, no matter how hard she tries to pour herself in her work. She likes him, and she's unprepared for it. He has taken her by surprise, dancing around her in a whirl of awkward smiles and trembling hands, and somehow he has gotten under her skin, right into that eager creature that thumps in her chest, and she doesn't know what to do.  
  
"Yeah," she says, nodding and then biting her lips, balancing the pencil in her hands with a focused expression, almost as if it could give her a solution to all of it. "Ben asked me to design a tattoo for him, so," she adds, shrugging, trying not to think about it - about the way his eyes looked at her, and his fingers traced her veins, and he trembled under her gaze while he talked about his scars.  
  
It makes her heart shiver in her chest.  
  
Poe is now staring at her, and Rey can feel his frown almost as if it could talk. "Ben?" he asks, and there's confusion in his voice as he utters the name. "Who the fuck is Ben?"  
  
At that, Rey laughs, shaking her head. She's here, blushing and shivering thinking about Ben, and his intense gaze and the way he held her hand, hesitant and scared like she was something precious and terrifying at the same time. Her heart beats furiously, and it's a wild creature in her ribcage, starved for love and warmth and she's astonished at the eagerness she feels when she thinks about him, and Poe just asks her who is Ben.  
  
Who is Ben, Poe asks - but how can Rey answer without giving all of it away? The private smiles he has gifted her, and his softness, and the way he crumbles down to himself when he's around her - they're all memories she treasures and she's not ready to share them with anyone. She is not sure she will ever be - those are moments that are entirely hers, and they belong in the space between their fingers as their hands come together.  
  
She settles for a compromise.   
  
"Luke's nephew," she tells Poe, raising her eyes to meet his gaze, and smiling up at him, trying to conceal the pink hue on her face. It probably doesn't work - now that she doesn't spend the days slaving away under the scorching sun of Jakku, she's not as tanned as she was when she was a kid. She's paler than she's ever been, and she can't really hide her blush at all. "We've been meeting for a while for coffee and he asked me-"  
  
"Wait," Poe interrupts her, frowning and raising a hand to stop her. There's a line on his forehead, and his lips are pressed together in concentration, as if he was trying to wrap his mind around a thought. "Are you dating him? That guy? Captain Emo?"  
  
"No!" Rey exclaims, quickly, but her cheeks redden up, again, and she groans, annoyed by herself and the way her body betrays her so easily. She wishes she was harder to read, but the truth is that she feels like an open book, under Poe's gaze. After all, Poe has known her for years, and he probably has her memorized by now. "I'm not dating him. _I'm not,_ don't look at me that way. We just meet sometimes at The Resistance".  
  
Poe grins, and Rey knows this is not good. Not good at all. She wants to disappear somewhere far away and come back only when this conversation will be definitely forgotten, which probably will never happen. Poe will tease her for years about it, he will tell Finn about it, they will haunt her and mock her and do all the things annoying older brothers do. She wants to disappear.  
  
"You like him, don't you?" he says, smirking down at her, crossing his arms over his chest, and Rey rationally supposes it's only fair, since she was teasing him about Finn just a few minutes ago. Irrationally, she wants to erase that smug expression from his face with her bare hands, and then hide in shame for the rest of her life. "You like Captain Emo".  
  
Rey sighs, before replying, and she knows she is basically signing her own sentence. "I'm not answering that question," she says, coldly, turning away from him and staring at the design again. She can hear Poe laugh. "And his name is not Captain Emo".  
  
Poe goes mad with laughter.

  
*

The days go by in a whirlwind of chaos and appointments, and coffee breaks with Ben and sweet smiles, and teasing from Poe and Finn, who are apparently dating now so really they don't have the high ground at all in this but somehow they think they do, and it's all a blur until Rey finds herself on Christmas' Eve with no idea on how she got there.  
  
She hops down the bus at the usual stop, a few minutes away from the studio, and she makes her way down the street shivering, her elegant coat clearly not suited for this weather. It has stopped snowing, luckily, but it's still freezing and her breath comes out in smoke, and she feels the tip of her nose already frozen, but she keeps on walking, even if heels are making it a difficult task. She silently curses Poe and his elegant dress code as she tries not to slip and fall to her certain death.  
  
It's only when she arrives in front of the studio, that she stops. She should head out to The Resistance, where Finn and Rose are closing down the shop and waiting for her, but she notices _him_ , before anything else, and her heart jumps almost instantly in her throat, leaving her breathless and shivering for a whole different reason. The world shrinks down to him, and only him, and she can't tear her eyes away as she follows his fluid movements.  
  
He's closing down the shop, as usual, and he's wearing his dark coat, and he looks almost like a ghost like this, in the quiet evening of Naboo, a figure of darkness and light combined together, blending on his odd face. The streetlight shines on his shoulders, and on the way they tense when he stands up to his feet, and the way he tries to relax as he sighs, running a hand through his tousled hair.  
  
It's such a nice picture, and Rey's heart almost aches to touch it, to card her fingers through those strands and pull them back, caressing his face and smiling up at him and this sudden wish terrifies her, but she tries to keep it together as she walks up to him, a hesitant smile on her face.

"Hey," she says, as usual, trying to sound casual and not bothered at all, but it's really not that easy when he's right there in front of her.  
  
He reacts in an instant - he turns immediately into her direction, almost as if his body was tied to hers by invisible strings, and he stares down at her, surprise so easy to read on his face as takes her in. It almost feels like he's letting his emotions slip past his defenses when she's around, and Rey is speechless.  
  
"Rey," he replies, and the way he says her name makes her shiver. His lips curve around it and he tastes it like it's something new and unfamiliar, but pleasant all the same - something he's still trying to get used to, a welcome novelty in his life. He's still surprised, and his eyes drop from her face to her body and widen, before looking her in the eyes again. "You look… beautiful".  
  
Her heart does a twist in her ribcage, again, and she is speechless for the first time in her life. She realizes only in this moment she is more dressed up and elegant than usual - a nice, red dress and elegant coat, and high heels because fuck Poe, that's why -, and the way he looks at her makes her tremble beneath his gaze, unable to utter a response. He's not devouring her or checking her out - it doesn't feel creepy or annoying or terrifying. It feels like he's admiring her, his eyes full of wonder and devotion, and Rey doesn't know what to say. For the first time in her life, words seem to elude her.  
  
He reads into her silence, and makes a strangled little sound that has her looking up at him, surprised. "I mean, you always look beautiful," he tries to say, and she can see him blush beneath the faint light of the streetlight, looking adorable and boyish as always. He runs a hand through his hair again, biting his lips. "I didn't want to say you don't, because you do. You always do. I just wanted to say-"  
  
"Ben," she interrupts him, stepping even closer. She's right in front of him, now, and all the words die on his lips as he looks down at her, utterly amazed and surprised. She's wearing heels, but he's still taller than her, and she has to raise her head to stare into his eyes. She smiles, warmly, and her fingers ache to trace all the moles on his face. "Thank you," she says, simply, and her heart seems a frightened little bird, dying to hide itself in the crook of his neck.  
  
He blushes again, and breathes, deeply, and Rey longs to hold him into her arms, to press his heart against hers, to kiss him and brush against his face with her fingertips, following the lines of his moles, tracing constellations on his skin, making a galaxy out of him. She doesn't know what to do with this desire - she has never felt something so intense, so heartbreakingly real in her life, and she feels terrified, something threatening to split her from the inside. It feels so much bigger than her, and she doesn't know how to care for someone in this all-consuming way without being burned in the process, but he smiles, bringing a hand at the back of his neck, embarrassed by the whole situation, and the tension she feels in her mind quiets down for a moment.   
  
"So," he says, looking at her again, and studying her outfit, slightly biting his lips. "Are you going somewhere? I mean, to celebrate." he adds, blushing furiously, and Rey chuckles, her eyes following him almost in fascination. She remembers his frown the day they met, and how he tried to hide himself behind it, and now he blushes under her gaze and stutters on his words, and he has never been so  beautiful and real, a person, a boy in front of her - just Ben, and she likes him so much for it.  
  
She tries to bury the thought somewhere in her mind, where she can analyze it later. "Yeah, I'm meeting Finn and Rose at The Resistance, and we'll go at Poe's," she explains, shrugging. She doesn't bother to mention a family or something else. Poe and Rose and Finn are her family, after all, and for all the cursing and whining about the dress code, she's glad she has them. She studies him, pressing her lips together. "What about you?"  
  
This question leaves him out of breath for a moment - she can see that, the way his shoulders tense and he flinches, and looks at her, lips parted in surprise, almost as if she had just driven a knife right into his heart, and twisted it.  
  
Rey curses herself. "You don't have to answer that," she says, quickly, and her hand almost aches to reach for him, to curve around his wrist, and calm his erratic heartbeat with the gentle brushing of her fingertips. "I'm sorry, I-"  
  
But he shakes his head, and the expression of surprise and shock fades from his face, as he recovers from it. "No, it's okay, don't worry about it," He sinks his hands into the pockets of his coat and takes a deep breath before talking again. "Well, Luke has left for some remote corner of the world where he can _enjoy the days in solitude and not taking part in this insanity_ , his words, so I'll just close the shop and head home, that's all" he says, trying to smile. It looks a little bit forced, and she see the way his jaw tenses and clenches, something unpleasant making its way into his mind as he tries to speak.  
  
She knows it's not her business - she knows she has already fucked it up, and she just has to accept his words and keep her mouth shut, because, after all, she's been alone on Christmas for more years than she can count and she definitely gets him, but she's not that kind of person. She's not the kind of person that leaves someone behind.   
  
She reacts on instinct, as always, and looks at him, and she knows she can't leave him like this. Not like this, not him, of all the people - he reminds her of herself, when she was nothing more than a child, looking at love from the windows of Jakku's orphanage, and wishing it was something she could have.  
  
She can't leave him behind.  
  
So she speaks. "On your own?" she asks, tentatively, looking up at him with a little smile. This time, he doesn't flinch - he just sighs, and a hand comes up again into his hair, messing it up even more. He looks vulnerable and young like this, younger than he probably is, and when he tries to give her a small, hesitant smile, the little gesture almost breaks him.  
  
She can see it now - the cracks in his soul, the points in which life has broken him into something different, and she aches to put her hands on them, to pour kindness on his wounds and love them away, and she doesn't really know why.   
  
"I don't talk with my family anymore," he says, then he seems to think about it, and the weight of the world seems to crash on his shoulders as a thought passes in his eyes. He looks strong and broad, giant and massive, but Rey realizes how fragile he is, right now, under her gaze, under the toil of his own mind. "With my mother, I mean. So, yeah, I'm on my own".  
  
The next words come up to her mouth instantly, and she doesn't even have the time to think about it. "Want to join me?" she asks him, hopefully, smiling up at him and nodding in the direction of The Resistance, still open in front of them. Rey realizes just now that Finn and Rose have been probably staring at the two of them for the whole time, and she blushes, but she finds out she doesn't mind, not right now. "It's just us and Poe, you know everyone. We're just going to eat something, it's really not that big. It could be nice".  
  
She's practically begging him, and it feels like a repetition of the past - Rey, begging someone to stay. But this time it doesn't come with an ache, with a feeling of choking, with tears in her eyes - it feels like warmth, like something wrapped around her shoulder. She realizes, with surprise in her heart, it's the first time she doesn't feel any fear in begging someone, in making herself vulnerable in front of someone, in stretching out her hand.   
  
He looks at the coffee shop across the street, then back at her, sighing, and there's such a sadness in his dark eyes it feels impossible to bear. She feels crushed by it, and she wonders, with a lump in her throat, how can he even stand it at all. She wants to wrap her arms around him and let him bury his head into her chest, kissing his temple and reassuring him - but she can't. It's not up to her, and she's not sure he would even like that. He seems skittish and jumpy, ready to run away from her at any occasion - a startled wild animal she's trying to win the trust of.  
  
"I don't really celebrate," he replies, quietly, and there's a small smile at the corner of his lips. It doesn't look forced anymore, and it seems less painful for him, but Rey wants to cry all the same, and she doesn't understand why - why this sad, complicated, broken man can have such an effect on her. How did he even manage to get under her skin, into her heart like that? She has always been guarded and defensive, protecting her heart from everything, but somehow he has crawled his way into her soul, smiling tenderly, looking at her with adoring eyes and making stupid jokes, and now she can't shake him out anymore - he's there, in her heart, in her veins, and in her soul.  
  
"But thank you. It was …" he trails off, the words failing him, dying on his lips in the cold air of the evening. He looks her in the eyes, and his smile becomes warmer, somehow. "It was really kind".  
  
He says that with a sort of surprise hanging around him, like kindness is something people don't show him very often, and Rey's heart break again. What has this man been through, to be so shaken and surprised by a simple act of gentleness? She can't even phantom it, and still, she understands him completely, and maybe that's what breaks her and makes her want to cry. No one should go through that, she thinks, not him at least.   
  
"Maybe you don't celebrate, but I think you deserve to," she tells him, quietly, and the look of pure surprise and shook in his eyes is enough to reduce her to pieces. She asks herself is someone has ever been kind to him, but she can already read the answer in the lines of his face, and she almost cries. He's something broken, but the void in his soul mirror hers, and she can't let him go at all. She tries to smile, shaking her head. "But I respect that. I'll be here, if you want".  
  
He doesn't say anything, and Rey thinks, with a jolt, that maybe he doesn't know what to say. Maybe he doesn't know how to respond to kindness.   
  
Ben just nods, pressing his lips together and looking at her with grateful eyes, and Rey is overwhelmed and she just wants to hold him, to tell him that she gets it, that in a cruel, vast, ever-expanding universe, she understands him.   
  
Instead, she just gets closer. Ben follows her movements with an equal mix of wonder and fear, as if she could do something both terrible and fascinating to him, and when she places her hands on his chest, he trembles under her fingers. He's solid under her palms, and she strokes his coat in small movements, almost as if she was trying to stroke his heart.

"Merry Christmas, Ben" she tells him, and then, before she can talk herself out of it, she grasps the fabric of his coat in her hands and raises to her tiptoes to place a kiss at the corner of his mouth.  
  
He freezes for a moment, shock rippling through him, making a marble statue out of him, and she can feel the way his heart stops for a whole second under her hands, but her fingers dig into his coat, tracing small patterns on his chest, and he seems to relax, and, in the next heartbeat, his hands are at her sides. He is not holding her - he's just brushing his fingertips against her hips, tentatively, and Rey feels, for the first time in her life, like she's something precious and valuable, something he's afraid to break under the grip of his eager fingers.  
  
She pulls away with a smile, and she can hear him sigh, a wistful sound she didn't think he could make. It's sweet and melancholic at the same time, the way some rainy days are. It makes her heart go tight. Her hands are still on his chest, gripping his coat in her fingers, the fabric soft and warm against her skin, and Ben stares down at her with pure marvel in his eyes, like she's something incredible and otherworldly, something unreal and delicate he has to treasure.   
  
"Merry Christmas, Rey," he tells her, and when he smiles, it lights up his face, and the whole world around them. "Thank you," he adds, blushing a little bit, and Rey doesn't know if he's thanking her for the invitation or the kiss or something else entirely, but she just nods and smile, her heart so warm it almost burn in her chest. His eyes are glistening, when she catches his gaze, and she's sure she's on the verge of crying too.  
  
"See you around?" she asks him, hopeful and hesitant at the same time. Her hands are still on his chest, but it doesn't feel weird or awkward or embarrassing at all - it just feels nice, like she has always belonged here, somehow. His hands hover around her hips, barely holding her against him, and she thinks, heart thumping furiously in her ribcage, _I want to stay like this forever.  
_  
It's terrifying and maddening, and so much bigger than both of them, but she doesn't mind. Not when Ben is looking at her like this, equal part wonder and devotion on his face.  
  
"Yes," he says, smiling so beautifully and gently it breaks her heart, but in a nice way - in the way you remember with a sort of ache, in the way she felt as a child when she looked at the stars. "See you around".  
  
She lets him go, and he does too, and they slowly walk away from each other, following each other with their eyes, and Rey's heart feels like a hummingbird, fluttering in her chest in rapid beats as she heads toward The Resistance, not even bothering to look at her feet now.  
  
"You kissed Kylo Ren," Finn greats her, as she steps into the coffee shop. Rose is already dressed up, and she glares at Finn, probably on the verge of throwing something at him. "Kylo Ren. I-"  
  
"It's not like you're better, when Poe is here" she tells him, as Finn washes his hands in the sink, and wipes them with a cloth, and blushes furiously.  
  
Rey laughs. "His name is Ben," she reminds him, and Finn groans, rolling his eyes, but there's a smile at the corner of his mouth, and she knows he's just teasing her for the sake of it. Despite everything he has been through with the First Order, Finn seems strangely okay with Ben. _He's weird_ , he has told her, _I like him_. "And I didn't really _kiss_ him".  
  
"Yeah, you tell yourself that," Finn replies, and Rey lightly punches him on arm, and they close the coffee shop together, laughing and teasing each other.  
  
  


*

  
Poe is waiting for them, at his place. They drive slowly - "I'm not going to risk our lives just because you want to party," Finn says, as the makes his way on the snow covered road, Rey and Rose humming _All I Want For Christmas_ under their breath just to tease him - and when they arrive, everything is warm and beautiful and proper Christmassy, as Rey thinks all holidays should be.  
  
Poe greets them with a smile, and Christmas at his place feels like every holiday she has missed, every Christmas Day she has dreamt of spending with someone who cared about her, every nice thing she has hoped it could happen to her. It's warm and beautiful and simple, easy as breathing but never taken for granted. She smiles up at Finn and laughs when Poe grabs him by his tie and, with the excuse of mistletoe, pulls him into a kiss, and giggles with Rose at Finn's shocked expression.  
  
It feels like home. The sensation scares her, and it feels immense and bigger than her body, but it settles in her heart all the same, and leaves only love and warmth behind. She has spent her whole life looking for it, and there it is - home, in the happy smiles of her friends.  
  
She thinks about Ben, and the way he has looked down at her, so broken and terrified by her kindness, but so grateful all the same, and she presses her lips together, imagining him on his own, in his lonely home, watching Christmas shows on his tv.  
  
"Are you okay?" Rose asks her, and Rey realizes she must have lost herself in her own thoughts. Poe is talking about his cooking skills and Finn is laughing, and everything feels intimate and domestic. Her heart aches at the thought of Ben, sitting on his couch on his own, but there's nothing she can do about it.  
  
She clasp Rose's hand, squeezing it gently and smiling at her. "Yes, I got distracted, sorry," she says, stroking her skin. Rose still looks at her, worried, her warm eyes searching her face for signs of something she can't tell, but then she smiles too. "So, Poe, are you going to feed us or are you just boasting?"  
  
In the end, Poe was not boasting at all.  
  
She wakes up on Christmas morning on Poe's couch, a blanket thrown on her shoulders, gently. She blinks a few times, as her eyes get used to the light that comes through the shutters, and she notice Rose, sleeping soundly on Poe's other couch, one arm tucked under her head and her small body curled under the blanket, BB8 snoring right beside hr legs. Rey smiles, remembering last night, and Poe insisting on taking the couch himself, and her and Rose ignoring him,  letting him and Finn share the bed with a mischievous smile on their face.   
  
She stretches and when she reaches for her phone on the coffee table, she realizes it's barely dawn. There's an unread text, and when she opens it, she realizes with a jolt of her heart and shivers down her spine, it's from Ben.  
  
**ben** : hey, I wanted to thank you, for everything. i hope you have a wonderful Christmas. you deserve it.  
  
She wraps the blanket right around her shoulder as she raises to her feet, and makes her way to the balcony, slipping past the door with a smile on her face. The sun is rising, and the world is orange and red and pink, and it's wonderful and gentle and so, so beautiful.   
  
She types a reply for Ben, and then watches the sunrise with glittering eyes and peace in her mind.  



	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I don't know. I could tell you that it saddens me to think about you all alone on New Year's Eve, or that is an act of kindness. But truth be told," her cheeks turn red, again, but her voice doesn't waver and her eyes are fixed on him, as she speaks. "I'd really like you to be my date".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a quick heads-up: next week i'll be updating on tuesday instead of monday because there's a big comic-book fair here in italy this weekend and i'll be basically crashing at my friend's place for the whole time until monday, so i won't be near a computer until tuesday :( then the updates will be regularly on thursdays and mondays!
> 
> again, thank you so much for your support!!

On Christmas morning, he wakes up to a voicemail and a text.  
  
The voicemail is, of course, from his mother. He knows he shouldn't listen to it, not this day, when everything feels fragile and breathing comes with a heavy burden on his chest. He should just erase it from his phone and from his mind and from his whole wretched life, but, after all, pain is always been a constant companion, the only one Ben - no, not Ben, _Kylo,_ he had been Kylo back then - could turn up to, and so he indulges in it, like he always does.  
  
"Ben," his mother says. Her voice is tired, and there's barely any trace of hope in her now - and he knows it's his fault. He has broken her, over the years, and everything that has happened to her has always been his fault. Something inside him dies, again, as he imagines her - a hand on her temple, slowly massaging it, and her face twisted in a grimace as she tries to find the right words to say. It's a haunting image, and Ben wants to curl up in his bed and cry for the rest of the day, even if he doesn't know if crying is still a thing he can do. "I know you won't talk to me, and I wanted to let you know that is okay. You will talk when you're ready, I know that".  
  
There's a brief pause, and Ben wonders how can she be so sure about it. He can't even look at her number on his phone without throwing up, and calling is just something he can't do, he can't, he won't - it feels like dying, like every anxiety attack merged into one, like panic flowing in his veins, like pain whispering in his ear that he deserves this and-  
  
How can she even be so sure about _him_? He has broken her and shattered her life and ruined every single thing, and still, her voice is exhausted but as firm and strong as he remembers it, and she still stretches out her hand to him, and Ben just can't understand.  
  
It's just like Luke, all over again. He doesn't understand the kindness and the grace they're showing him, and he doesn't know how to respond to it. His mind goes briefly to Rey, and her gentle smile, and the way she had kissed him, her hands on his chest and her lips against his skin, and his heart doesn't understand it at all, but it yearns for that kind of warmth and safety and peace.  
  
But he doesn't deserve it at all.  
  
"I just wanted to tell you that I miss you," his mother says, and he can hear the crack in her voice, and how she pretends it's not there at all. She always did, even when he was just a kid, even when they watched his father slam the door on them again - she always tried to be strong. For him, Ben realizes. She has always done all of it for him. "And I'll be waiting for you. I love you, Ben. Nothing can change that".  
  
And how can that even be? How can someone love him so much, so fiercely that the things he has done don't even matter? How can his mother, of all the people, still love him, after everything he has ruined and fucked up over the years? Ben doesn't understand, he can't understand - his mind can't wrap itself around the notion of being loved. It feels impossible, and he can hear Snoke's mocking laughter, piercing and mortifying, as he told Ben he was just a mess no one would ever bother to untangle.   
  
"Merry Christmas, Ben," his mother tells him, gently, and his mind drifts to past Christmases, to her smile as she handed him his presents, to his father's laugh as Ben tried to make his model car work. _Not on the walls, sweetheart_ , his mother would say, and his father would laugh, throwing his head back, and Ben would be happy, happy, _happy_. No matter how fucked up the situation was, how many times he had cried himself to sleep blaming himself for every fight his parents had - his father would always come back for Christmas.

It feels weird, now, to know he won't come back.

"I'll wait for the time we can spend this day together again. Take care of yourself in the meantime".  
  
The voicemail ends there. There a sigh, and then his mother hangs up, and Ben is left with shaking hands and tears on his face. He didn't know he was even capable of crying anymore - he had thought the First Order and Snoke and Hux had killed every single emotion that wasn't rage or hatred in him. But, it turns out they didn't. They had tried to make a weapon out of him, but they just managed to break his spirit.  
  
He hasn't even succeed at staying on the path he had set for himself. What a failure he is - he has left his family for the First Order, and he hasn't even managed to fully commit to it. He wants to laugh, and cry, and break this stupid, peaceful apartment apart, but, really, this is nothing new - it's not a sudden revelation, it's more like his mind reminding him of who he truly is.  
  
After all, he has always been a defective product.

Without realizing, he's rising to his feet, and then - he doesn't register the decision, he only realizes what happened when he feels his knuckles scream in pain. Ben stares at his hand, curled into a fist, slammed against the wall. He can notice a faint, red shade across his knuckles, and he feels his bones strain and ache.

He doesn't stop.

That's what he is, in the end - punches in the wall, blood running down his arms, scars that won't ever fade, no matter how many years will pass. A failure, a fuck-up, a weakness. _Pain_. He punches the wall again, and again, and again, and pain flows in his veins like blood, making his skin tingle, whispering him that's what he deserves, that he can't really walk away from it. He knows, all too well - he has tried, for Luke, for his gentle gaze and his worried expression, but he can't do it. He can't be something he isn't, after all, and all he is is disappointment and bitterness, and he deserves this, doesn't he? He keeps punching the wall until the pain is too much to bear even for him, biting his lips to prevent himself from screaming or crying or both.

In the end, he crashes on the bed again, breathing heavily and staring at his hand, blankly. The faint red has been chased away by an angry purple, and there is blood smeared across his knuckles, terrifying spots of color against his pale complexion. As the numbness starts to fade, he realize what he has done, and then comes the shame, the guilt, the horror of it, usual presences in his life. He wonders if the bruises will fade for the time Luke will come back - Ben doesn't want to look into his sad, disappointed, worried eyes. He doesn't want to hurt him again.

_It never works like that, doesn't it? You always end up hurting everyone, because that's who you are_ , a voice reminds him, and Ben takes his face into his hands, tugging his hair, trying to keep it all inside.   
  
When his breath comes back to normal and his hands don't shake as much, he turns back to his phone again, opening the unread text that is flashing on his screen, and he realizes with a jolt it's from Rey. His fingers feel unsteady, as he tries to hold the phone in his bruised hand.  
  
**rey:** you deserve it too, you know. I hope I can make you change your mind one day. Merry Christmas, Ben.  
  
His mind drifts to day before - to her gentle gaze, and the way she had stroked his chest, reassuring him, easing him into her as she raised to her tiptoes to place a kiss at the corner of his mouth. He thinks about his quiet evening, curled up on his bed, a blanket thrown around his shoulders and a trembling heart as he typed down a text, out of desperation and fear and loneliness and utter and terrifying want.  
  
There's no amount of denial that can keep this at bay - he wants it, all of it. The gentle smile when she tries to reassure him and the fierce expression on her face when he says something stupid, and everything in between. He wants her laugh and her glare and her hands in his, and a Christmas together, kissing her under the mistletoe and watching a smile slowly come up on her face, making a dimpled masterpiece out of it. He wants it with a desperation and a burning desire he has never felt before, and he doesn't know what to do with it.  
  
He only knows, as he stares down at the bruises on his hand, that he doesn't deserve it.  
  
He reads her text over and over again, tracing her words with his fingers, almost as if to burn them into his skin. Maybe that's the only way he can truly believe her - if it comes with a sort of pain, maybe this is real. Maybe if it hurts, he deserves it.   
  
He spends the whole day in bed, just staring at the ceiling, marathoning on his laptop old Christmas movies he used to watch with his parents, and he tries to keep himself together.  
  
Somehow, it works.

 

*

  
He's filing receipts and checking on the last orders of the day, as Luke told him to do - "New Year's Eve is frantic and people go crazy about it, so you should check every order twice. Or thrice. Or, well, ten times, to be sure," he had repeated at least for times before he left, and Ben had groaned, but the notion had found its way into his mind anyway -, when his phone starts to ring.  
  
Ben looks up from the sheet of paper he was checking just a few seconds before, maybe expecting it to be Luke, calling him to remind him to oversee all the orders - he's ready to groan and whine and be a child about it, as usual.  
  
But, instead, it's Rey's number on his display.  
  
It isn't his finest moment, to be honest - he drops everything he was holding just a second ago and flings himself at the phone like a eager teenager, but he tries not to think about it as he accepts the call and brings the phone to his ear. His heart hammers in his chest, both from the surprise and the thought of Rey calling him, and he feels stupid but also so uncontrollably happy about it. He should know better, he thinks, but after all his heart is a newborn creature, inexperienced and full of wonder, and he can't help himself.   
  
"Hello?" he says, tentatively, and his voice feels weird and raspy, somehow unused. He realizes now, standing at the phone, with Rey on the other end, that he hasn't spoken a single word out loud since Christmas' Eve, and she was the last person he actually had talked to. It feels almost poetic, in a desperate, sad, pathetic kind of way.  
  
"Hey," she says, on the other end of the phone, and her voice is as warm and bright as he remembered. It makes him shiver, and his heart does something weird, as it always does when she's involved - it thumps, furiously, in dull beats, and it feels like a living thing in his chest, a whimpering creature that tries to escape its cage of bones. "Are you around?"  
  
He knits his brows in confusion, but he answers all the same, as always with her. He doesn't always follow her, but he lets her guide him, taking his hand and driving him into an abyss of feelings and emotions he didn't know he could actually experience.

"Yeah, I'm at the shop" he replies, looking around. The shop feels quiet and empty without Luke's solemn presence, and even the colorful flowers seems less bright today. Something about his uncle made this place special, he realizes.  
  
Rey makes a happy little sound, a sort of humming that makes his skin tingle. He can imagine her - her phone twisted between her shoulder and her head, because she's always doing something else, going a hundred miles per second, and her lips curved in a little smile, her bright eyes fixed on something. He aches to see her, to brush his fingers against the little strands of hair that fall on her forehead, and tuck them away, beneath her ears, cupping her face in the process, and he finds himself shivering at the image. He wants it so bad, so strongly, and it feels new and scary and he has to tell himself to breathe before saying something stupid.  
  
"Good," she says, and he can hear the smile in her words. Oh, it feels so nice, and he remembers the way those lips had pressed against his skin, just a week before. "You have a break, right?"  
  
He looks around at the empty shop, shrugging. "Well, actually, all the orders have been filed and sent, so I'm closing the shop at one," he replies, pressing his lips together. She hums again, a content, peaceful sound that has his heart hammering in his chest, and, in a moment of recklessness, he dares to speak again. "Why are you asking this? Are you stalking me?"  
  
She laughs, quietly, and it's such a beautiful sound. He has heard her laughter a lot of times now - in her studio, open and carefree; at The Resistance, chuckling softly at him with warm eyes; as they walked down the street, throwing her head back like a little kid. But it feels different like this - it feels intimate and quiet, and the sound travels from his ear right into his heart, sinking into his bloodstream, flowing in his veins. It's so nice, and for a moment he even forgets about himself - about how nice shouldn't be something in his life.  
  
"No," she replies, and he can still hear her smile, the echo of a giggle still on her lips as she speaks. He wonders what that would feel like against his mouth, and then he curses himself. "I have something for you," she adds, mischievously.  
  
He's not even surprised when he finds himself chuckling, softly. It's like she coaxes a new side of him to emerge - to breathe and live, above those layers of brokenness and desperation. He laughs when she's around, and it feels easier for a while, and he can even forget about everything else for that shining moment. "Can you stop talking like a drug dealer? Your assigned FBI agent must be going crazy".  
  
There's silence at the other end of the phone, and then she giggles - that's the only word he can actually use. Rey giggles, and it's a sound so pure and pristine he almost feels unworthy of it. It's silvery and delicate and so beautiful all of his insides coil up. He tells himself to breathe, again.  
  
"I can't believe you've just used a meme in real life. What a nerd. Okay," she says, and he can hear her slowly breathe in and out, to calm her laughter. He imagines her, as she throws her head back, a hand on her mouth and wavy, soft hair around her face. It warms his heart. "I have a piece of paper with a drawing on it for you. No drugs. Can you wait up at the shop for me? I'll swing by at one".  
  
He replies without even thinking. "Of course," he hears himself say, and she makes again that little happy sound, and he wants to hear that for the rest of his life and it's scary and terrifying and he can't face the immensity of it, but she hums, and it makes it easier for a moment. "Don't be late".  
  
Rey snorts, and he'd give everything to see her right now, with her face all scrunched up and a smile on her lips. "I won't," she assures him, half annoyed, half serious. There's a moment of silence, before she speaks again. "See you later, then".  
  
He feels a little bit awkward, and he instinctively shifts his weight from one foot to another. "Later," he confirms, and then hangs up, looking down at his phone in disbelief, as if searching for the proof that the conversation actually happened.  
  
He spends the rest of the day in a confused haze, focusing only on the notion that Rey is coming here. He has to order himself to check the orders and prepare last-minute bouquets for sporadic clients. The only thing he can think of is her giggle, and how beautiful would that look on her face.  
  
By 1.15, he's fidgeting with his hands, nervously sitting at the counter and eyeing the door every few seconds. Maybe she won't come after all, a malevolent voice - a voice that sounds exactly like Snoke's - tells him, maybe she won't bother at all. _Maybe you don't deserve it_ , the voice reminds him. _You don't deserve kindness and you surely don't deserve her.  
_  
His mind feels heavy, just like his breath. That terrible urge is back and it would be so heartbreakingly easy, he thinks, to smash his fist against the window, shards of glass cutting into his skin, blood flowing down his arm in rivulets of red. The thought makes his stomach twist, and he winces, trying to bury that image in his mind, under everything else. He can't do this to Luke _again_ , not like this - he has trusted Ben with his shop, thinking him clean and safe enough to stay on his own for the Christmas break and he has already fucked it up once.  
  
He can't disappoint him.  
  
But the urge never fades, it never subsides, it never softens - it's always there, in the back of his mind, reminding him of who he truly is and what he's truly capable of. He tries to steel himself, gripping the counter so hard his knuckles turn white, and he stares at his bruised hand, the purple swelling fading into a yellowish hue, and he tells himself that it's okay, that it's stupid being so pathetically crushed just because she's late, but it feels like everything is crashing on him - the last year, his father, his mother's voice, and Luke's kindness and blood and pain and Rey, Rey, _Rey_ and-  
  
Those thoughts are interrupted by the opening of the door and there it is, a small figure, all clad in grey, a big coat on her wiry frame and a hat on her head. There are small, immaculate snowflakes in her hair, and a smile on her face. Rey - so real and wonderful and utterly and completely normal in her beauty. His breath hitches on his lips, and he is almost on the verge of crying.

_Don't be stupid_ , he tells himself, but the way she smiles almost makes him crumble in front of her.  
  
"Hey," she says, reaching the counter and he realizes, with a sort of surprise, that she has a cup of coffee in her hands. She settles it on the wooden surface, and then proceeds to raise her eyes and smile up at him. "The coffee is for you, I already drank mine. Sorry, I know I'm late," she adds, and her smile turns almost apologetic as she removes her hat and her gloves, placing them on the counter with ease. "Public transports, you know. It snows once, and it all goes to hell, and it feels like you're trying to get to Mordor".  
  
She shrugs, but Ben can't help but frown at her words, and he studies her face almost as if it was the first time he ever saw it. "You came all the way here with the bus?" he asks, surprised, and somehow his mind can't really grasp the concept at all.  
  
She furrows her brow in confusion. "Of course," she says, almost as if it was obvious. But it's not - it's not obvious someone could do something like that for him. She had no obligation to cross half the city to get to him on a snowy, festive day, and yet here she is, tilting her head and studying him as intently as he's studying her, lips pressed together in a small smile. Ben can't really understand it, but he accepts it anyway. "Drink your coffee, or it will get cold. Well, it's probably cold already, but I tried my best".  
  
He glances at the cup in front of him, and he stretches out his hand to wrap his fingers around it, stunned by the whole situation. It's tepid, but it's not as cold as he thought, and when he takes a tentative sip, the coffee is still warm enough, and it clears his head a little bit. He knows she has noticed the fading bruises on his knuckles, and her eyes go terribly soft, but she says nothing, and he's glad.

"You have to stop buying me coffee," he tells her, smiling so she knows he isn't actually scowling her. He wouldn't - it feels nice, knowing that she has thought about him enough to grab a cup of coffee for him. "Or at least, give me a chance to return the favor, once".  
  
She laughs, and shrugs, and he's fascinated by the way she acts like it's nothing. "I don't mind, it's nice having someone to do little things for," she confesses, tilting her head to the side and smiling up at him, quietly. There's such steady devotion on her face, and Ben feels his hands shake, and he tightens his grip on the cup to hide it. "A simple thank you would suffice".  
  
He smiles, taking another sip of the coffee. "Thank you," he says, then, locking eyes with her above the cup, and she smiles, happily. Her eyes almost shine, and the snowflakes in her hair give her an otherworldly look - she seems taken out of a fairytale book, with her sharp features all softened into a smile, and snow in her hair, and kindness and mirth in the curve of her lips.   
  
She's beautiful, he realizes. He has always known, of course -  and the memory of her, in front of him, in a little red dress and elegant coat and high heels is so difficult to burn out of his mind -, but there's something special in her now, surrounded by the once again vibrant colors of the flowers. She makes this place shine again.  
  
"So," he says, propping his elbow on the counter and looking down at her. "You said you had something for me".  
  
"Oh, right," that's the only thing she says, before she sinks her hand into her bag and retrieves a folder Ben isn't sure how she managed to put in the bag in the first place. She settles it on the counter, next to her gloves and hat, and opens it, only to grab a piece of paper that she hands him with a nervous smile, without looking him in the eyes. "Here. Don't get too excited, though".  
  
She's nervous - something he has never seen in her. Usually, she's always so self assured and calm, and Ben has always admired that in her, but now she seems hesitant and scared and it warms his heart to see her like this. It's not like seeing a different person wearing her face, it's more like discovering a new side of her, and he wants to. He wants to know everything about her - what makes her smile and what makes her cry and everything in between. It's scary, but not really - he already knew that, somewhere deep in his mind.  
  
He takes the paper in his hands, smiling down at her and trying to reassure her, and then he looks down at the design she has worked on for him. The notion is still extraneous to his mind - he knows he will pay her, so, really, it's just another job for her, but the fact that she's here, on a day she could be anywhere, celebrating, makes his heart skip a bit. And then it stops when he actually looks at the design.  
  
"It's nothing extraordinary, really," she says, maybe to break the silence. Her insecurity is almost a ringing sound into his mind, as she speaks - he can pick it apart in her words, maybe because he knows all too well what it means to be so unsure of himself. "I tried my best, but-"  
  
"It's beautiful".  
  
And it really is - it's complicated and full of layers, but beautiful all the same. A simple flowery pattern - daisies, he realizes - at the top trails down and it divides itself into geometric lines that, eventually, become constellations right at the bottom, where his wrist should be. She has put so much effort in it he can actually read the constellations almost as if this design was a star chart. It's beautiful and wonderful and he feels shocked and no words in any human language could convey all the emotions stirring behind the surface of his mind right now.  
  
"You like it?" she asks, tentatively, and when Ben raises his head to look at her, he can read the fear on her face, and the nervousness, and something else that he can't quite pin down. Rey tries to smile, but it looks almost like a grimace. "I mean, I know it's much-"  
  
"I love it" he tells her, quickly, and really, there aren't any words that could better express what he's feeling right now. He loves the design, and he can see it - on his forearm, flowers turning into stars right there on his skin, making something different out of his scars. He had asked her because he just wanted to hide them, but she had turned them into a masterpiece, somehow. Her face lights up, and her eyes shine with happiness at the words, and Ben wants nothing but to make her this happy everyday of his wretched life. "The details are amazing, it's like you read into my mind. It's- it's beautiful, Rey".  
  
She blushes, and her face turns into an adorable shade of pink, and Ben's heart definitely thumps in his chest, and screams. He's pretty sure she can actually hear it.

"I just kept in mind what you said about the things you like" she says, shrugging, as if it wasn't a big deal. But it is - it is, for him. It's the first time in years someone actually bothers to remember something about him, and his heart aches in his chest, but a good kind of ache. He's not sure he can actually stand it all, but it feels nice. "Well, you can talk with Poe after the holidays are over".  
  
He furrows his brow, confusion probably easy to read on his face. "Poe?" he asks, cocking his head to his side, trying to look at her. "I thought- I mean, that's your design. I want you to tattoo me".  
  
It comes out a little bit more fierce and blunt than he expected or wanted, but Rey doesn't seem bothered. She looks at him, surprised, her eyes big like she's a kid, but there's no grimace on her face.

"Okay," she says, in the end, nodding, and then a smile comes up on her face. The sight of her dimples makes his heart go crazy in his chest, and he longs to brush his fingers against them, just to know what they feel like under his touch.  
  
"Thank you," he says, biting down on his bottom lip. The words are still new on his tongue, and gratitude feels something he doesn't know how to process, but he's learning, somehow. "For, like, everything".  
  
He feels awkward and pretty stupid, but she laughs again, and the sound is so beautiful it makes him relax, for the first time in his life. He doesn't know how she got so much power over him, but he doesn't complain - he is perfectly fine with it, as long as she laughs and smiles like that.   
  
"You don't have to thank me," she tells him, shaking her head, and then stretches out her hands to grab the drawing he's still holding. In doing so, her fingers brush against his, and he has to tell himself to stay put, lest he ruins everything by taking her hand. "I'll take this, and we'll talk about it after the Christmas break," she adds, fixing it back on the folder and somehow managing to get the folder into her bag. He looks at her like she's some kind of magic. "Hey, you hungry? I thought we could eat together, if you want".  
  
_What_ , is the only coherent thought his mind can muster at the moment, and he looks at her, surprised and probably red, but he doesn't hesitate.

"Of course" he replies, almost immediately, and her smile is so wide and bright it almost blinds him. Oh god, he's being cheesy and sappy about it. It's not going to go well. "Well, let me put on my clothes and close the shop and we'll go".  
  
He changes quickly in the backroom - "Don't worry, I won't peek," she says, and he makes a strangled sound and goes completely red, and he's glad she can't see him or his ears, because that would be embarrassing - and then she helps him close down the shop, smiling happily beside him. It's still snowing, but just barely, and few snowflakes fall on her hair, making her look like something taken out of a movie, as they walk down the street.  
  
"You know, I had never seen the snow, before I moved here," she confesses, as she stretches out her gloved hand to catch the snowflakes. She does it with the enthusiasm of a child, and he looks down at her, heart swelling in his chest. "It never snowed in Jakku".  
  
He snorts. "God, that's basically in the middle of nowhere" he says, before he can think about it. He looks at her, biting his lips, but she's laughing, and she's so enchanting, beautiful and warm under the snow. "Sorry".  
  
"No, you're right. It sums up Jakku pretty well," she says, shrugging, and then her hand find its way under his elbow as they quietly walk down the street, and it feels almost like she's grounding him - like she's a luminous string that keeps him tethered  to Earth, somehow. He sighs, before he can even realize, but then he smiles gently at the girl standing so close to him under the snowy sky. "Food?" she adds, as the corners of her lips quirk up.  
  
He nods, smiling down at her. "Yeah, food".  
  
They eat in a small restaurant nearby, and it doesn't feel awkward or forced at all - it feels just like one of their coffee breaks together at The Resistance, simple and normal and almost plain, as often beautiful things are. They talk about the weather and the places they grow up in and he finds himself sharing more than he had originally planned. He tells her about growing up in Chandrila, about the snow and how his father used to take him in a small park nearby their home just so they could have a proper snow fight. It doesn't hurt as much as he tells the story, maybe because Rey is smiling at him and her eyes are beaming, and she is looking at him like he's the most fascinating thing in the whole universe. It feels like a nice memory, and he's surprised he still has that. He couldn't feign any of that last time, when he was staring down at his phone, after Luke had called him to tell him about his father.  
  
Maybe he's really starting to heal. Maybe he's allowing himself to heal, despite everything.  
  
She tells him about Jakku, and how vast and terrifying the desert is, and how lonely she felt as a kid, watching it at night, dune after dune, and nothing more. But she also tells him about flowers sprung in the middle of the desert, reminding her that life could endure it, and so could she, and he looks at her like she's something extraordinary, a marvel of flesh and bones and freckles and pure determination. She doesn't talk about parents and he doesn't ask, because he knows how tricky that subject can be, and she will talk when she's ready.  
  
Surprisingly, for the first time in his life, waiting doesn't feel as terrible as it used to.  
  
Afterwards, he walks her to the bus stop. He tries to convince her to accept a lift, but it has stopped snowing and the streets are clear and she insists on taking the bus, so he doesn't push her. They just walk down the street, bumping shoulders as they joke and smile and talk like old friends. The way she laughs in the cold, pure air makes his heart shiver in his chest.  
  
"So," she says, once they reach the bus stop. The bus will arrive shortly, so he decides to wait with her, because it feels like a nice thing to do - and because he doesn't really want to say goodbye just yet.

He wants to spend all day with her, and this is something new - he remembers hating other people's company since he was a child. But she's different, somehow - it's like she's tuned with the deepest parts of his soul, and knows when to talk and when to stay in silence. It's a kind of understanding that goes beyond every relationship he has ever had in his life - no one has ever been able to read him so clearly, and he doesn't want to let her go, and this is the thing that scares him the most. One day Rey will realize how fucked up he is, and will stop talking to him - and Ben doesn't know how to cope with the thought, because he knows, deep in his soul, that somehow she has carved her way into his life and he can't imagine a day without her anymore.  
  
"So?" he asks, raising an eyebrow, and she blushes, just a little, and a pink hue makes its way on her cheeks. It heightens the dark freckles on the bridge of her nose and on her cheekbones, making a work of art out of her face.   
  
"What are you doing tonight?" she asks back, tilting her head. She's still blushing, but there's no embarrassment in the way she talks, and she's blunt and sure as always under his gaze.  
  
He makes a strangled sound that could pass for a whine, because that's his standard reaction to life, apparently. He had almost forgotten about tonight, and he wishes he could forget about it again, because she is looking at him, all expectant and hopeful and this is not going to go well.

"Why?" he asks, but it sounds more like a wheeze. He knows he's being childish about it, but he can't really help it. The thought of New Year's Eve makes his stomach twist in a bad way. "Are you trying to drag me to a party?" he adds, trying to smile all the same.  
  
She's being kind, he reminds himself. She is just worried about him. His mind automatically goes to Christmas' Eve, and her lips placed right on the corner of his mouth, and how the world shifted that day, forever.   
  
"Well," she says, sinking her hands into the pocket of her coat and shrugging, a little smile hanging on her lips. "Poe has been invited to a party and he told us we could bring someone, so," she presses her lips together, as her eyes wander over him, searching his face. "You don't have to say yes. I know you don't celebrate".  
  
He looks down on her - she's small and wiry, and her hat makes her look somehow younger, but there's a fierce determination in her eyes, and something he can't really understand, but that gets to him either way. She's stubborn and relentless and she doesn't ever give up, and Ben likes her for it.

"Why are you doing this?" he asks, studying her, and really, he can't understand why someone so radiant and bright would even bother to spend time with him, let alone trying to drag him to a party and try to make him happy.  
  
But she just smiles her usual smile - kind and stubborn and pure Rey, a smile that, somehow, has found a way into his heart.

"I don't know. I could tell you that it saddens me to think about you all alone on New Year's Eve, or that is an act of kindness. But truth be told," her cheeks turn red, again, but her voice doesn't waver and her eyes are fixed on him, as she speaks. "I'd really like you to be my date".  
  
The words are a surprise and they feel almost like a knife, right into his heart, twisted by her gentle fingers. He blinks a few times, maybe to assure himself this is not a dream - but she's there, in front of him, honest and vulnerable and real, and she's telling him she wants him to be his date. It's absurd and shocking and all around impossible, but the most incredible thing is that it's real.  
  
He doesn't deserve this, but, oh God how much he aches for it.  
  
"Date?" he asks, because, yeah, that's all he can think about. The word _date_ flashes on his brain like a neon sign, and it's not really his finest moment - apparently, that's never, when Rey's involved -, but he's still having trouble grasping the concept.   
  
Rey doesn't laugh at him or mock him, she just stares at him, her usual smile on her lips and bright eyes fixed on his face, following every movement.

"Yeah," she says, no shame, no apology, no embarrassment in it, and he really, really likes her, and how unapologetic she is about it. "Date".  
  
And really, how could he tell her no? She's right here, in front of him, with her lips curved into a smile that sends his heart into chaos, and she says she wants him - broken, unfixable Ben - as her date, and who is he to tell her no? Who is he to defy her, and her beautiful freckled face, and the way she looks at him with shining eyes?  
  
"You know I don't usually go to parties," he says, biting his lips. She nods, and the worst part of it it's that she doesn't even look sad or disappointed - she looks used to it. He can't stand it all, and, after all, he already knew he was gone when she had looked up at him with her eyebrow raised and her arms crossed, that first day in her studio, months ago. "But I can make an exception. For you".  
  
The smile that breaks on her face is the most luminous thing he has ever seen, and it makes his heart swell and beat so furiously in his chest that he's pretty sure she can hear it as well, but he doesn't mind. He wants her to know - he doesn't know how to do this, but he hopes she takes his hand and guide him into her, somehow.

"Really?" she says, eyes wide and lips curved, and she's so surprised and happy that Ben almost feels happy too - as if her emotions resonated within him, a red string tying their souls.  
  
"Don't get too excited, I will probably stand awkwardly in a corner," he warns her, and at that, Rey laughs, throwing her head back as she usually does - a beautiful sight he will never get tired of. "Should I dress up?" he asks, bringing a hand to the base of his neck, running his finger through his hair. The mere thought of dressing up makes his mind drift to First Order parties, and how he hated it all. It will be different, he tells himself, but he wants to throw up all the same.  
  
She shrugs. "Nothing fancy, it's just a party," she replies, and Ben is left staring at her with the realization that he has not the faintest idea of what _nothing fancy_ means to her. "And besides, you'd look nice in any case".  
  
All his protests dies on his lips. His brain stops working for good at those words, and he can feel his cheek turning red, burning his skin. Rey laughs, gently, and then she raises a gloved hand, placing it on his arm, and gently stroking him, almost as if to calm him down. It's like she can sense him - his emotions, the way his mind twists and turns, and she's there, guiding him with her bright eyes and her determination. It feels nice, and it feels like, for the first time, he has a shelter - something to come back to, when the storm in his mind is too much to weather.   
  
The bus arrives soon after that, and she raises to her tiptoes to place a gentle kiss on his cheek. He feels himself burning under her, but it's a kind of pain that feels nice - a kind of pain he could get used to, a kind of pain that doesn't leave scars.  
  
"I'll pick you up at 9," he tells her, as she is hopping on the bus. Rey turns into his direction, and smiles so brightly the world seems to fade to nothing, compared to her.  
  
"I'll text you the address," she replies, and then the bus door closes and she disappear inside, and Ben is left in the cold December air, wondering what the hell he has walked into.  


*

  
The house is something beautiful and incredible and full of lights, all glass walls and modern furniture, and, as they walk up to it, it reminds him of something taken out from a movie, a freeze-frame of The Great Gatsby. It's magnificent, in the way great things are, but it seems to bring to life something he has tried to kill in these months, without success - all the memories of the First Order, and their parties, and the humiliation and the desperation and-  
  
"Ben," Rey's hand finds his, and she intertwines their fingers with ease, slightly tugging him to catch his attention. Her skin is warm and soft against his, and it clears his mind a little bit, chasing away all the terrible thoughts his brain seems so fond of. "It's just a party. We can leave, if you want".  
  
He turns into her direction, biting down his lips. Even in the poor illuminated garden, with lights dancing on her face, she's the most beautiful thing Earth has ever created. Her hair is loose and wavy around her face, and she's wearing a nice black dress made of lace, and her lips are red and distracting. But her eyes are the most beautiful, haunting thing about her - hazel and green and every color in between, staring at him with care and affection and worry all merged into one.  
  
"No, it's okay," he says, and, surprisingly, it is. He's still frightened, and the thought of celebrating among other people still feels extraneous and terrifying, but she's there, holding his hand, and it's okay. "I want to do this".  
  
She smiles, and the worry in her eyes seems to subside for a moment as she looks at him. She leans in little bit and raises to her tiptoes, even if she's wearing heels again, to place a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"Okay," she whispers, stroking the back of his hand. "But if it gets too much, you will tell me, right?"  
  
He nods, too surprised to manage words, and she smiles again, as they make their way to the door, with Rey still holding his hand.  
  
The party itself is something - _big_. There's no other word he could use to express what it feels like to be there, surrounded by people and music and noise. It's a stark contrast to First Order's parties, all so posed and collected - instrumental music playing gently in the background as lively conversations sparked in the great hall, and Ben tried to hide himself behind a glass of wine.   
  
It seems to him like is life has always been a sequence of parties he didn't want to attend to, but right now it feels different, somehow, as Rey turns to face him, stroking his hand. "Remember, we can leave whenever we want".  
  
Oh God, how much he likes her.

They walk into the house with Rey's hand into his, and it's as crowded and packed as expected, people pouring from everywhere, noises and music almost deafening. He can hardly hear the sound of his own heartbeat, but it's all so much bearable if she strokes his hand, gently, her fingers fitting perfectly in the space between his. Panic is always there in his mind, but he can focus on her, and the way she smiles up at him as they make their way past a crowd of people. She's radiant, the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, and the lights shine on her, making her something out of the ordinary, and he knows he's lost, forever. Everything else is just background noise.

Rey introduces him to her friends, and Ben waves his hand awkwardly under their curious gaze, but it doesn't feel half as bad, when she's next to him, stroking his back. Her arm is at the small of his back, keeping him grounded, and somehow, it works.   
  
Finn and Rose, he knows - after all, Rey and him have spent all their breaks at The Resistance, and he has learned to remember them. Finn is a little bit guarded, and eyes him like he's expecting Ben to do something weird or unusual, but then he seems to relax as Rey talks, excitedly. Rose is gentle and warm and Ben can't find another word beside _adorable_ \- she's small, smaller than Rey, but she has a really bright smile and sweet eyes, and he can see why Rey likes her so much. She's quiet but observing, and when she smiles at him, Ben feels strangely comfortable, even if he still has trouble breathing. 

Poe, on the other hand, is something else entirely. Ben has met him sometimes, since, after all, they're neighbors, but seeing him, in person, and talking to him, feels very different. He's watchful and it feels almost like he's studying him, and he eyes Rey and him with attention.

Ben feels uneasy under his gaze, but then Poe smiles at him, and his smile makes him look a lot less menacing. Ben didn't know he was actually scared of him until the moment passes, and the tension nestled into his shoulders dissipates - and it's stupid, because, really, he's taller and stronger, but Poe is kind of Rey's family, after all, and, yeah. It feels stupid, but he does want to make a good impression. He wants to hide in embarrassment after the last thought. He feels like a teenager, and that's something he never imagined he could be.   
  
Poe pats his arm with a smile, eyeing him with the face of someone who has been surprised. "You don't seem so bad, you know, for being Captain Emo, " he says, raising his head to look him in the eyes. Ben can hear Rey whine and say something about making him shut up forever, but he presses his lips together and raises his eyebrows at Poe.  
  
"I suppose that's a compliment?" he asks, tentatively - Rey's hand splayed on his back, her fingers drawing small circles, reassuring him with her warmth - and Poe laughs, throwing his head back. It's an earnest laugh, and Ben can feel his own lips quirk up in a smile. There's something magnetic around Poe - that sort of energy that bright, lively people carry around without even noticing, and, surprisingly, Ben actually likes him.  
  
"Yeah, I suppose it is," Poe says, running a hand through his hair, with a warm smile on his face. He sneaks an arm around Finn's waist, with an ease Ben finds almost surprising. "I think you're cool".  
  
Rey smiles so brightly all the other lights fade in comparison, and he knows he's being cheesy about it, but he can't help but stare at her in fascination. Her presence right beside him is both grounding and elating, and his mind feels hazed, but oh, it's all so beautiful. Her hand on his back guides him into her, and her fingers dig gently into the fabric of his jacket, and it's a touch that speaks of understanding and care, and he doesn't remember the last time somebody had showed him such a kindness.   
  
"Yeah, you are. We were surprised Rey asked you," Finn says, and then Ben notices the way Rose elbows him, with a death glare. She's petite, but she looks very fierce like this, and Ben has the distinct thought of never wanting to cross her. "I mean, it's cool, you're cool, not weird at all".  
  
"Finn!" Rey says, outraged, but Ben laughs, and she turns to him, surprised. Her eyes roam over his face, searching for any sign of discomfort, but he feels okay - cornered and terrified, but strangely okay about it. He will need time to breathe again, but right now it doesn't feel as heavy as it used to. Maybe it's because they're not out to get him, he realizes. For the first time, people actually want to get to know him, and not just mock him.  
  
It's incredible how this simple notion can change him.  
  
"It's okay, really," he says, reassuring both Rey and Finn. He knows he's red, as usual, but, even if there's a sort of awkwardness about it, he doesn't feel half as bad as he usually does.  
  
"What Finn was trying to say," Rose butts in, glaring at Finn, who smiles sheepishly at him now. "Is that we're happy Rey invited you. You seem a nice person".  
  
Oh, he's not, and he can't even begin to understand why Rey is holding him like that, pressing her small, warm body against his side, smiling up at him with glittering eyes, looking at him like he's a small miracle right in front of her, but maybe he doesn't want to understand. He has never been one for reasoning, after all - all of his decisions and choices have been based on impulse, on emotions, on him jumping into it without even thinking about it before. He has always fucked up his life this way, but maybe this one time things could turn up okay, somehow. He has to believe that.  
  
Her hand on his back reminds him of something he thought impossible - of home. He has to believe that, for her.

"Yeah, I mean, you seemed so scary, back in the First Order," Finn says, running a hand through his short hair and eyeing him, hesitantly. "But you're cool now, so I guess that's okay".

The mention of the First Order turns his body into stone almost automatically, and Rey tenses next to him, maybe feeling the way his muscles stiffen and his breathing stops for a whole minute, his chest heavy, his mind spinning. He can feel the rush of blood in his ears, and Rey tightening her grip on his back, fingers digging into the fabric of his jacket, and he tries to breathe - he tries, really, because he doesn't know if he can manage it, but he has to. At least for Rey.

"Finn, maybe-" Rey is saying, but her voice arrives almost muffled to his ears, and Ben has to close his eyes for a moment and ground himself before talking again. _They're_ _looking at you_ , the usual voice in his mind says, _they're staring at you, you're making a fool of yourself._ But Rey's hand is still on his back by the time he opens his eyes, and he doesn't know what she has said, but Finn is giving him a small, apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry, man, I-"

"No," he replies, shaking his head. His voice comes out a little bit more forceful than he had planned, but Finn doesn't seem upset and looks at him with the same little smile. Ben feels Rey's eyes on him and he wonders what she's thinking of him - _That you're a failure, that you're pathetic and worthless_ , a voice reminds him - , but her fingers are still splayed on his back, grounding him, tethering him to her. "I mean, I'm sorry, I didn't know you worked there. I must have been an asshole to you".

He must have been an asshole to a lot of people. He doesn't remember anything from those days, almost as if they passed in a blur of chaos and pain, but - he knows he has not been the best version of himself. He never has, to be honest, but back in the First Order he has probably been awful and - he doesn't really want to think about it, but the thought makes him cringe. How many people has he hurt over the years, without even noticing?

Finn shakes his head too. "No, man, really, it's okay, I was working with Phasma anyway, so," he says, shrugging. The way the thought seems to brush off his shoulders, so easily, is almost a sorcery to Ben, who is always thinking about his pain and suffering, and carrying his regret on his back, like a weight he can't get rid of. "You're cool, really. I l like you. We like you".

_How is that possible_ , he wants to ask, but he doesn't, because he's not sure he wants to hear the answer.

"Yeah, but you have to treat Rey right," Poe says, suddenly pointing his fingers at him, with a serious expression. He's at least a few inches shorter than him, but he looks menacing enough, somehow. "Or I'll release my dog on you. Or on your flowers".  
  
Before Ben's brain can even process those words and think about replying, Rey's hand moves from his back to his arm, almost tugging him.   
  
"Well, it's been a pleasure, I'm sure we will have other occasion to chat about that," she says, quickly, and when Ben turns in her direction, he notices the way she reddens up, suddenly embarrassed. He's still so surprised he can't think about anything else for a whole second, except for her red cheeks. "Hey, Ben, why don't we go grabbing a glass of champagne?" she asks him, and then, before he can answer - even if he doesn't know what he can even say -, she drags him away from her friends, who are currently laughing.  
  
Rey drags him into a less crowded corner, and then she runs a hand through her hair, breathing deeply and taking her face into her hands.

"God, I'm so sorry," she says, and her voice is muffled by her hands, but he can hear her above the noise, above the music, above everything else. She sounds mortified, and that's something he doesn't want to ever hear her be - she has nothing to apologize for. "They are all so protective, but they mean well, I promise. I'm sorry if they made you uncomfortable".  
  
He hesitantly reaches out for her, and puts a hand on her naked shoulder, gently stroking it, and when she looks up at him, her eyes are insecure, as they have never been. There's a lot, behind her - behind the surface Rey she shows him every day, and he longs to know her, to explore her depths and understand her.

"It's okay, Rey," he tells her, sweetly, as his fingers slowly brush against her collarbone. He feels electric, tracing the line of her bones above her skin, and when he raises his eyes again, she's staring at him. He smiles, trying to reassure her. "They're nice. I like them".  
  
She looks up at him, and her lips curve into a small smile, and God, how much he likes her - he likes her smile and the way her shoulders tremble under his hand as his fingers trail up to her skin again, and the way she looks at him, as if he was something precious to her. He doesn't know how to react to that but - it feels nice.   
  
"Want to go away from all of this?" she asks, tilting her head backwards to look at him. She slightly bites her bottom lip, before speaking again. "Just you and me?"  
  
That sounds definitely too good.  
  
"God, yes," he says, before he can even realize, and then she's laughing, throwing her head back as she always does, so pure and sweet and _Rey_ his heart bursts in his chest. He feels an eagerness he has never experienced before, and he wants nothing but to bury his head in her neck.   
  
They somehow retrieve their coats, and then they're walking in the garden, among cars and motorbikes, and candlelight. There are too many lights too actually see the stars, as he hoped to, but they end up a small, private corner of the garden, with their backs against a wall and the open sky above them, and it feels all so quiet and simple. He can still hear the music coming from the house, but it's almost pleasant, this way, muffled by the distance.   
  
She is leaning with her back against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest to keep herself warm, and he longs to hold her in his arms, to press his lips to her neck, trailing kisses over her pulse point, and this scares him more than everything he has ever faced.

This desire, this kind of ache - it's all new and unfamiliar, and he doesn't know what to do with it, but then she turns into his direction and smiles at him, sweetly, and the fear subsides for a moment. She is beautiful, bathed in the moonlight and when she smiles, all the stars are trapped in the curve of her lips. She looks like she was cut out from an old movie, black and white clinging to her still as she watches him with shining eyes.  
  
"I'm sorry I'm such a mess," he says, awkwardly, thinking back to her hand on his back, to her protecting him, shielding him from his own thoughts, and he sighs. He wonders if that's what she expected her New Year's Eve to be - nursing after a guy with a bad case of anxiety and past trauma. "It's been a rough year for me. Well, a couple of rough years" he adds, shrugging, biting his lips, as images of the last year flash before his eyes in a sort of movie he never intended to see again - the usual First Order party, Luke's phone call and all that followed, blood and glass and hurt, and desperation. And then he thinks about the years before - the one he almost has no memory of, because they're a blur of pain and rage and regret. "There's a lot I still have to work on".

He shows her his bruised hand, the yellowish tone of his skin where he has broken it, and he doesn't look her in the eyes, but he can hear the way her breath hitches for a moment, before it turns back to normal again. His heart beats desperately against his chest, and he wonders why he's doing this - why he's baring himself in front of her, showing her the most terrible and haunting parts of himself.

_Because you want her to care about you all the same_ , a voice whispers, _because you're desperate for her, and her kind touch, and the way she seems to put you together for just a moment_. He asks himself if it's so bad, wanting to be accepted and cared for, but he doesn't have an answer - he only knows he's hungry for it.

She says nothing, and he sighs, retreating his hand and hiding it in the pocket of his coat. "I am a mess, I'm sorry".  
  
This is it, he thinks - that's the moment she will tell him to go away, that's the moment she will realize he's too fucked up to be lovable.   
  
But she stretches out her hand, and reaches for his, pulling it out of the pocket, and intertwines their fingers. Her grip is firm and solid, but not painful, and her thumb strokes the back of his hand, drawing circles against his skin, careful not to touch the fading bruises, calming him. The creature in his chest almost claws its way out of his throat when he turns to look at her and he notices the way she's smiling at their joined hands - it's soft and sweet, and nothing like her usual, radiant smile. This is something tender and private, something she is gifting him and only him.  
  
"You're not a mess," she says, raising her eyes to look at him. She's still smiling in a way that makes his soul flicker within himself. He didn't even know he still had a soul. "I get that. I have issues too, Ben. You're not alone" she tells him, and with her thumb she traces the lines of his veins, on the back of his hand. Her fingers are so small, compared to his, but she looks so focused, stretching her hand to encompass his, and he wants to cry.   
  
He shakes his head, looking down at her.

"You seem so put together," he says, desperately, tears in his eyes, because it's true. Because for all the glimpses of something beneath the surface, she is still a mystery to him - a vast, unexplored ocean, with a calm, bright surface and secrets stirring just underneath it. She laughs, quietly, and then she leans in, placing her head against his arm.  
  
Almost automatically, he untangles their hands to pass his arm around her shoulder, and pull her closer to him. It feels spontaneous, and he doesn't feel the need to second guess it, for once in his life. Rey places her head against his chest, and he knows she can feel the rapid beats of his heart beneath her, and maybe that's why she smiles again - that private, gentle smile. He wants to stay like this forever, and never let her go.  
  
"It's because I had to," she says, quietly.

His fingers find their way into her hair, playing lazily with the strands, and she hums as her eyes flutter shut for a second. His heart feels like a frightened little thing in his chest, dying to present itself at her feet.

"I grew up in an orphanage back in Jakku" she confesses, opening her eyes again. She isn't looking at him, but he can feel her stiffening a little bit, and he keeps on playing with her hair, and tracing patterns against the fabric of her coat, reassuring her just as she has reassured him so many times. He doesn't say anything, because he's really not that good with words, but he keeps her close, and doesn't let her go, and eventually she relaxes against him, her body almost melting into his. "If I showed any weakness, I was as much as dead meat, so I just learned to keep it all inside, I guess. The foster system didn't exactly make it easier either, so I just learned to steel myself. It stayed that way, I think".  
  
He pulls her a little bit closer, and there's a brief silence after her words, but it's not uncomfortable. He strokes her shoulder, and she closes her eyes, and it feels like a whole eternity compressed in a small moment, two figures holding on each other under the starry sky. 

"It's still difficult, you know," she murmurs, against his chest, as he traces patterns over the fabric of her coat and pulls her closer, sharing his warmth with her. "Letting myself loose. I am terrified, all the times. But you," she hesitates for a moment, before letting her arm wrap around his chest. "You make it easier".

Ben is too stunned for words, and he doesn't know what to say. Her words hang around them for a minute, and he tries to grasp them, to let them into his mind, but his brain seems to have shut down completely.

He can't believe it - he can believe this beautiful, wonderful creature is clinging to him, telling him that he, of all the people, makes things easier for her. It feels impossible and out of place, and his heart seems a furious, chaotic thing under her cheek, beating and screaming, grazing at this throat as it tries to climb its way out of his mouth. He wants to tell her everything, but he doesn't know how, so he keeps on stroking her back, fingers digging lightly in the fabric of her coat.

"You make it easier, too," he replies, quietly. He can hear her soft, gentle intake of breath against his chest, and he can feel the stinging of tears behind his eyes.

Then, she laughs, quietly - the laughter he has learned to recognize as something born out of embarrassment.

"Sorry, I didn't want to ruin the mood," she says, slightly pulling away from him to look him in the eyes. Her beautiful eyes are glistening, and, before he can stop himself, he holds out his hand and, with his fingers, he brushes against her face, caressing her skin with all the love and tenderness he can pour into that touch. She shivers, but smiles too, looking up at him like he's something precious. "I shouldn't talk about that on a date. God, I'm sorry, you probably don't care and I made it awkward".  
  
"No," he tells her, sincerely, as his fingers slowly trail down her face, hovering around her lips. She smiles again, and he finally can know what that smile feels like under his fingertips. "No, I want to know you. I want to know every single thing about you".  
  
He has never been so honest about anything in his life, and it scares him to death, his heart beating so furiously in his chest it hurts, but pain is something he knows well, and he can bear it and she's there, looking at him with stars in her eyes and in her smile, and he doesn't mind - for once, he can face the fear, he can face everything, if she's there by his side. And he knows he doesn't deserve it, he doesn't deserve her and it will only break him apart, but how can he even run away when she's looking at him like she has finally found something worth loving?   
  
He doesn't deserve her, but maybe it doesn't make a difference at all.  
  
"I want to know you too, so much it almost hurts," she whispers, and her voice is made of love and warmth and home, and all the things he didn't know he had missed until she came into his life, a frown on her face and a secret smile on her lips, tiptoeing her way around his curtness and his awkwardness and his shattered, unbearable mind. "Ben," she says his name, and then she stops, staring at him, maybe tasting it on her tongue, and his heart goes wild in his chest.  
  
He's never been brave, and he knows it all too well. Impulsive, reckless, diving into bad decisions head first - yes, all of that, but courage is something he lacks of. But Rey looks at him, and he feels the Earth shifting beneath his feet, and everything he knows about himself is being rewritten by the knowledge of her steady, unfaltering devotion, and he can even be brave, tonight.

"I like you an awful lot, Rey".  
  
It feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest, and there's nothing more to hide, nothing to hold back from. The truth splits his lips open, and it terrifies him, but it sets him free too, and he can feel a smile on his face, spontaneous and easy as it has never been. She laughs at his words, but he knows she's not laughing at him - there's happiness in her smile, and he forgot how that tasted like, if he ever knew it in the first place.   
  
"I like you an awful lot too, Ben," she murmurs, and then she's right in front of him, and his hand is still on her face, and she's raising to her tiptoes. He can count all the freckles on her beautiful face, and his breath hitches. "Can I kiss you?"  
  
He's falling, falling, falling - he's falling for her faster than he had anticipated, and he feels like a shooting stars, crashing through time and space and ripping the sky apart in his wake, leaving only debris behind.  
  
"Please," he says, and it's almost a whimper and he feels ridiculous, but then she's kissing him and it doesn't matter anymore.   
  
Her hands find their way into his hair, pulling him close to her, and his arm sneaks around her waist to steady her and press her against his body, and he's so inexperienced he's actually terrified, turning into a statue under the gentle pressure of her lips on his, but then her fingers draw pattern against his nape, lazily playing with his hair, and he eases into her and he's kissing her and she's kissing him, and it should be impossible but somehow it's not, and they're under the open sky, lost on each other and to the world.  
  
Her lips are gentle, and it's all innocent and sweet - her body pressed against his, sharing his warmth, and her fingers into his hair, not pulling it but stroking it, and the way she hums into his mouth, that little content sound he has heard so many times, and Ben wants to cry and maybe he's already crying, but it doesn't matter, because she's there, holding him through it.  
  
Rey is the first to pull away, but she doesn't let him go - she smiles at him and rests her forehead against his, brushing away the tears from his face with the utmost care, leaning in to kiss his cheekbones, his jaw, the corner of his mouth. He can feel himself tremble under her touch, and it's all new and fragile and delicate and he wants to tell her - how much he's messed up and how much he's not lovable and how terrible he really is.   
  
"Ben," she says, taking his face into her gentle, small hands. Up close, her eyes look like a forest in the middle of summer - green and brown and warm and both ancient and mysterious, but also fascinating. He wants to get lost there, and never be found. She smiles. "Don't overthink it. _Please_ ".  
  
It's the way she says it that makes him crumble. She's strong, stronger than him, and she could wrap him around her fingers and do anything to him, and she's begging him -poor, messed up Ben. She could have everything, and instead, she looks at him with devotion in her eyes, and a pleading on her lips.  
  
He leans in, hesitantly, and he lets his lips find hers, pressing gently. She lets out a little, soft sigh, and he can feel the moment when her eyes flutter shut by the brushing of her eyelashes against his skin, and it feels intimate and real and beautiful. Her hands are on his face, pulling him into her, and his hands are at her hips, holding her against him, and they're something taken out of a movie - her small frame pressed against his, her hands stroking his face, two lost souls that somehow have found their way into each other.   
  
A dusty filter on a grainy image. Eternity in a moment. A few notes coming from the house, whispering in his ear _Heaven is a place on earth_.  
  
When midnight strikes, he's still holding her, and she's smiling, that soft smile she has devoted to him, as she whispers against his lips. "Happy New Year, Ben".    
  
Her fingers dig into the fabric of his coat, as he places a small, sweet kiss on the tip of her nose, and she laughs. "Happy New Year".

And maybe, for a whole minute, he can believe it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's all about first steps, Rey thinks. They're dancing awkwardly around each other, trying to understand it - to understand what it is between them, and how far it goes. She is quite at loss and, by the looks of it, he's too, looking down at her with hesitation on his features, but it's okay somehow. It feels almost natural, to dig her fingers into the fabric of his sweater and pull him into another kiss, slightly biting his bottom lip as she does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> buckle up and prepare yourself for the fluffiest chapter i've ever written, kids. i tried to write this over and over again but in the end i'm just that sappy, and so it stayed :D 
> 
> thank you so much for everything!!

When Rey arrives at the studio, Ben is already there, opening up his shop. The day is cold and cloudy, and the sky is gray, and his coat looks almost like a dark spot against the air.  
  
He doesn't immediately notice her, so she takes a moment to observe him, with her heart in her throat - the whole world shifts, as he raises up to his feet, rising up the shutter as he does. It's a new sensation, and Rey can't quite pin it down: everything else seems to become blurry, and the only thing she can focus on is his broad frame as he fumbles with the keys.

Her heart almost hurts from the affection she feels pooling in her, and there's no end to that - it almost feels like there's an infinite amount of it, of love and care and devotion, and she trembles from the intensity of all of it, scared to death but also strangely okay about it.  
  
Oh God, how she has missed him. Only know she realizes it - it's only been a few days, and they have talked over the phone almost every night (Ben, soft and gentle, whispering in her ear as she started to fell asleep, and laughing every time she made a joke, and her heart still aches at the thought, but a good kind of ache), but seeing him in person it's different. And it's beautiful. She longs to card her finger though his hair and stroke his skin and press sweet kisses to the point where his jaw meets his neck, and she realizes with a jolt that now she can. She wants to hold him, and she can.

The thought almost makes her dizzy.

She doesn't know how to like someone in a normal way - her starved heart hums and thumps against her chest, and it all feels so all-consuming and terrifying, but he's running a hand through his hair in an attempt to fix it, and the sight makes her smile, because it's all _so Ben_ and that's something that makes her heart ache in a good way.  
  
"Hey," she says, trying not to think about anything else that comes with that notion. Her hands tremble, so she hides them in the pocket of  her coat. Ben immediately turns into her direction, as always, like they're tied by a string, and every word coming from her mouth is a yank at it. His eyes go wide, and a smile comes up on his face almost automatically as he takes her in. It's so unusual and bright that she almost falters, and finds herself without words. Oh, he's so beautiful like this - open, vulnerable, human, _Ben_ \- and she doesn't know what to say to convey all that she's feeling.  
  
She doesn't know how, but he makes her speechless.  
  
"Hey," he replies, shifting so that he's facing her. "You're here," he sounds so surprised of that, as if she could not show up somehow. As if he had imagined her.

Her heart clenches as she rests her shoulder against the wall. It's almost a ritual, between the two of them, but now it feels different. Now her heart hammers in her chest, and he smiles - a spontaneous smile that speaks of happiness and fondness, and it's so weird, to see him like this, but it's beautiful all the same, and she wants to lose herself in that smile, tracing it with her fingertips, tasting it with her lips.  
  
_I could spend my whole life like this_ , she thinks, and then shudders - but the thought doesn't leave.  
  
"You're early," she comments, and she can see the way he blushes, a faint pink hue painting his pale cheeks.

She laughs, quietly, and she wants nothing more than press kisses against his cheekbones, following his moles, brushing against his dimples as he smiles. She can't think about anything else, and it's new and terrifying - she feels out of control, her mind spinning furiously as it crashes down like a satellite gone rogue, and that's frightening, her heart almost bursting in her chest with equal part of terror and fascination.  
  
She doesn't like feeling out of control - her life has always been her, trying to put together the few pieces the world threw at her, and making something out of it, trying to keep them together against all the odds. She had to control it, otherwise it would all have gone to hell, and all that hurt and pain and loneliness would have just been for nothing. She had to keep herself together, because that was the only way she knew how to function.

And then, Ben had walked into her life - stern and curt, and vulnerable and kind and all-around impossible and flawed, and now she falters, her mind drifts and she feels powerless against the emotions pooling in her heart, an empty well that is starting to fill itself for the first time in her life. She had never granted herself the luxury of letting someone so deeply into her life and her heart, and a part of her still wonders if this is a wise choice, but, for the first time since she was six years old and desperately crying her heart out, she finds out she doesn't care.   
  
It's terrifying, but Ben smiles again, and she doesn't mind it so much, after all.

"Yeah, I know," he replies, shrugging, biting down his lips as he looks at her, pretending not to notice the red on his cheeks. He looks younger like this - almost like an inexperienced teenager, and Rey finds herself liking it so much her heart almost bursts. "I- I wanted to see you, I think, so I kind of-" he smiles, apologetic, as he stutters on his words. "Rushed here".  
  
Rey can't believe it, and her eyes widen, as she feels a surprised smile coming up on her lips.

"Really?" she asks, just like a child, and she knows she may look stupid and pathetic like this, but Ben is looking down at her with such a tenderness in his eyes and she wants it, she wants it all - she craves his tenderness and his love and his devotion. She didn't know she needed it, until Ben had turned her whole life upside down, saying he liked her and making her feel wanted for the first time in her life.  
  
She feels drunk on the sensation, and she's terrified - maybe she's dreaming it, and when she'll open her eyes, he will disappear, like every dream she has ever had.  
  
But he doesn't.  
  
"Yes," he replies, gently, and he takes a step into her direction, hesitantly. His voice is soft, and his eyes are shining in the quiet morning light, and it's a quite a sight, like this. He's beautiful, she realizes, he's sharp and gentle at the same time, and there's something utterly wonderful in the way he lets himself loose in front of her. "Is that so hard to believe?"

Somehow, it is. Rey stays silent, a small, tremulous smile on her lips, but he seems to read her face, almost as if there was an answer to his question, written all over her freckles, and then sighs, and runs a hand through his hair - a gesture born out of embarrassment, she has learned to know.

"I know we haven't really talked about that and I don't want to presume or else. I just-" his words trail off, and he seems to be so terrified, looking at her like she could give an answer to all of his question, and Rey realizes for the first time how they both are afraid and scared and inexperienced, and vulnerable. "I missed you. And I hoped you missed me too, so ..."  
  
It happens so fast her mind doesn't even register - one second she's looking at him, and the next she's right in front of him, taking his hands into hers, stroking his skin with gentleness. He seems to be lost at sea, and she pulls his hands, bringing him to shore. He's as terrified as she is, and she doesn't know why, but this makes the whole thing less scary.  
  
"I did. I missed you, too," she says, tentatively, as her thumbs draw small circles on the back of his hand, savoring the sensation and calming his furious thoughts. She remembers the way he tensed up on New Year's Eve, and how she kept her hand at the small of his back, grounding him, sharing her warmth and her surety with him, not minding the bruises on his knuckles, taking his hand into hers anyway. And then she remembers how he held her as she talked about Jakku, his fingers playing with her hair, his heart beating steadily under cheek. They are two lost children, maybe, but they have found a way into each other, somehow. "Like, terribly".  
  
He smiles, and melts into her touch with a wistful sigh, his fingers brushing against her hands as he holds her. He's so beautiful like this - soft, and gentle, and utterly Ben, no trace of a mask between them. She raises to her tiptoes and, almost at the same time, he lowers a little bit and they meet halfway in a kiss. He's still hesitant and he kisses her like she's something precious and breakable, but it feels nice all the same - being treasured and protected like this, for the first time in her life, feels nice.  
  
They are still holding hands, when she pulls away.

She can see as his eyes flutter open, slowly, as if he was still lost in the kiss - _in her_ \- and it's such a beautiful sight, so private and intimate and tender, her heart twists in her ribcage. She will never get used to it - it will always be like this, like something threatening to split her open from the inside, to crack her soul because it's too much to hold it inside her, but it's okay, because she doesn't mind, when Ben looks at her like that, devotion and adoration in his eyes as he raises himself.  
  
"Was that okay?" she asks, tentatively, and he laughs - such a pure, beautiful sound. At the beginning, his laughter was masked as something else, and it was deep but empty - but now, oh it's beautiful. He laughs, and it resonates within her body, making her soul flicker.  
  
He's still holding her hands, and he strokes her skin, gently, as he replies. "God, yes," he says, and then she laughs at his eagerness, and she feels like a schoolgirl with a crush, drunk on the feeling and the sensation of his skin against hers. "Want to come inside? I can put on the heating and warm you up while you wait".  
  
She nods, smiling up at him, and that's how they enter his shop, still holding hands. She doesn't intend to let him go, ever - she wants nothing but his hands in hers for the rest of her life, and it should be scary and big and immense, but instead it's just pleasant and warm and it makes her feel safe, like nothing has ever done. Poe and Finn and her apartment - all of this is something like a surety, but nothing ever made her feel at home like Ben's gaze, looking at her like she's what keeps the universe together.  
  
Ben removes his coat, placing it on the counter, and proceeds to turn on the lights and the heating system, still holding her hand in the process, stroking her skin with his thumb and smiling down at her. It feels like a dream, like something taken out of a fantasy - she has spent so much time thinking about him, and the way the corner of his eyes wrinkle when he smiles, that she almost has trouble believing this is really happening. They have kissed. He has told her he likes her - Rey still can't believe it, it feels almost too nice.   
  
He looks unsure, when he pulls her closer, but she doesn't move away from him - in fact, she places a hand on his chest, marveling at the fact that she can. She can touch him, and he's solid under her skin, flesh and bones and not a dream, and Rey smiles up at him, trying to convey all that she's feeling.  
  
Ben smiles too, as he rests his hand at the small of her back, pulling her body against his. It's a tentative gesture - he moves her slowly, giving her a chance to stop him, but she doesn't, and he looks amazed and full of wonder as his eyes search her face.  
  
It's all about first steps, Rey thinks. They're dancing awkwardly around each other, trying to understand it - to understand what it is between them, and how far it goes. She is quite at loss and, by the looks of it, he's too, looking down at her with hesitation on his features, but it's okay somehow. It feels almost natural, to dig her fingers into the fabric of his sweater and pull him into another kiss, slightly biting his bottom lip as she does.  
  
Her other hand finds its way into his hair, and she sighs against his lips, realizing just now how much she has missed it - the feeling of the strands between her fingers, the way he presses his body against hers, gently, giving her space but also keeping her close, and his lips and the way they move, unsure and inexperienced, but oh, so soft and beautiful. She bites his bottom lip again, feeling bolder as holds her. Ben lets out a small, little gasp and she can feel her whole body shiver at the sound, and she wants to hear it again - she wants to hear every single sound he can make, every whimper and every gasp, and everything in between. She wants to become world's lead expert on Ben's sounds, and drink them in, on her lips.  
  
He pulls away to breathe, but his hand is still at the small of her back, keeping her close as he recovers, resting his forehead against hers. She can see his eyes, up close, and they are dark brown, warm and full of wonder as a gentle smile makes its way on her face.

"I know we haven't really talked about it," he says, as his hand trail up and down her back, his fingers tracing patterns on the fabric of her coat, gently. "And I know I have said things".  
  
A sudden fear takes hold of her, and it's hard to keep calm and collected, as she tries to speak, when images spin furiously in her mind, reminding her of things she thought long dead by now - backs turned on her, doors slammed on her face, nights spend crying herself to sleep. She tries to breathe, deeply, but her mind feels frozen, and she's spiraling back in the same old fear that never leaves.

"Please, don't take it back," she murmurs, and she feels her hand shake on his chest, so she pretends to stroke him over his sweater.  
  
He pulls away, slightly, to look down at her, and his brow is furrowed, the usual wrinkle in the middle of his forehead that she has seen so many times. He looks puzzled, and his hands stop again, coming to rest on her hips, tracing small circles over all her layers. It's strangely calming.

"I wasn't going to," he replies, and his voice is deep and gentle, and it almost feels like a blanket thrown over her, keeping her warm in the cold nights of the desert. "Rey, I don't want to take it back. I would never take it back. I meant what I said," he adds. His eyes stare deep into soul, and she feels ridiculous and she wants to cry, sinking her head into his chest and hiding from everything else.  
  
She doesn't, because she has to keep herself together.

"Oh," it's all she can say, because her voice is starting to waver and she doesn't want to cry, not in front of him, not because she's stupid and traumatized and can't handle rejection. He's not even rejecting her, for God's sake. "I'm sorry, I-" she tries to apologize, but words, as usual when she's with him, seem to falter and she finds herself looking at his beautiful, open, gentle face, not even sure of what to tell him.

_Sorry, I have abandonment issues and you got caught up in it_ seems a pretty shitty excuse for her behavior.  
  
He seems to understand something isn't quite right - and oh, he always does, doesn't he? She thinks of New Year's Eve, when he held her thought her story, and when he let her speak of her past, looking at her like she was something marvellous and terrible at the same time. He always understands her, and she can't phantom how, but he does - it's like he has her written down on his very soul.  
  
He smiles down at her, and then his hand is on her face, brushing away a few strands of hair and tucking them beneath her ear, with care and affection.

"I just wanted to tell you that this is all very new for me and I don't really know what to do and I'm so afraid of messing it up," he explains, gently, and he's so sweet her heart hurts and pounds in her chest, almost as if it was trying to escape her fragile bones. His fingers are still on her face, stroking her skin with tenderness, tracing all her freckles. "I never had something like this" he adds, and his eyes flicker to her, and she can read in them like an open book - the eagerness, the want, the fear, the immensity of all he's feeling, all in that deep brown of his eyes.  
  
"Me neither," she replies, smiling up at him. The fear in her mind seems to have retread, and she realizes just now she has been holding his sweater in her hand until now. She lets it go, blushing, but he's still looking at her with tenderness. "But I want to try. If you want".  
  
Ben lowers himself a little bit, before answering, and his eyes stare right into her soul as he does, making her shiver.

"Of course I want to," he replies, and then he presses, hesitantly, a kiss to her cheek. It's sweet, and tender, just like he is right now - a young boy, learning to understand what his heart is trying to tell him, and Rey likes him so much for it her body seems too small to contain it. To contain all that she's feeling. "I want to. I just - I don't want to mess this up," he murmurs, and there's a brief pause, silence all around them and Ben's eyes on her, looking at her and biting down his lips as if he died to tell her something but he can't find the courage. And then, he smiles a little bit and kisses her.  
  
It's sweet, and innocent, and his hand is still on her face, stroking her skin with his thumb, while his fingers dip into her hair, curving around the back of her neck to pull her closer. It feels intimate and real, and she never wants to stop kissing him.  
  
Rey pulls away just to breathe, but she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him into her again, leaving a trail of kisses along his jaw. Ben lets out a soft sound, and she loves it, she loves it, and she's drunk on this and dizzy and she doesn't mind it at all. She feels real and wanted and loved for the first time in her life, and she doesn't know what to do with it, so she keeps pressing sweet kisses to his face, as his eyes flutter shut.

"So," she says against his cheek. "Will you go on a date with me?"  
  
He breaks away just slightly, smirking, and Rey knows she's lost, forever. "As long it's not another party with your friends," he replies, cheekily, and she pretends to glare at him, but she feels so stupidly happy she probably fails.  
  
She doesn't care. "You idiot," she says, before she raises herself to kiss him again, preventing him from speaking. He doesn't seem to mind, and brings his hand to her hips, holding her against him, and Rey loses herself, and the concept of time in the kiss - she kisses him, and he kisses her and that's all, that's the end of the story, the big moment right at the end of the movie. They're kissing amid colorful and vibrant flowers and he's soft and sweet against her and she wants nothing more than this, for the rest of her life.  
  
She only comes to senses when she hears the door chiming, and an amused voice say, "Morning, kids".  
  
Ben pulls away almost immediately, as if she had burned him, and they turn to face the person on the doorway - which ends up to be Luke, obviously. He's staring at the two of them with an eyebrow raised, but a sort of grin hanging on his lips, and Rey feels her cheek burning and she knows she's blushing. She's probably redefining the word blushing.  
  
"Oh, Luke," Ben says, pretty stupidly to be honest, but when Rey turns into his direction, she notices he's as red as her, and she can't really blame him.

She supposes it's pretty embarrassing, to be found making out by your uncle - she doesn't have an uncle to be discovered by, but she imagines it would be just like being caught by Poe.

"We were, uhm," he tries to say, and probably the fact that he's still holding her and her hands are still around his neck isn't quite helping him. She quickly moves away her arms, but he doesn't seem inclined to let her go. "Talking," he finishes.  
  
Rey doesn't know if it's possible for a human being to reach a blushing limit, but she's probably about to find out, as Luke raises even more his eyebrow at them.

"Ah yes, talking," he repeats, probably enjoying the embarrass they're feeling. Ben goes redder, and, even know, she finds him adorable. She wants to press a sweet kiss to his cheek, but she doesn't, because, well, Luke.  "Well, if you're done talking, there are some plants in the van that require your attention".  
  
Ben finally lets her go and moves away from her, and Rey already misses the feeling of his body pressed so close to hers and then she feels pathetic and cheesy.  
  
"Sure," he says, running a hand through his hair, as he often does when he's embarrassed. "I'll- I'll just go," he adds, before darting out of the shop, not looking Luke or Rey in the eyes in the process.  
  
Luke laughs, shaking his head, and then he finds his way at the counter, while Rey tries to collect herself - she doesn't know if she manages, but she breathes in and out and can finally look Luke in the eyes, so she'll call it a progress.  
  
"I'll go too," she says, pressing her lips together and sinking her hands into the pockets of her coat, trying to look calm and not awkward at all. She fails. "I'm sorry for, well, that".  
  
Luke laughs again, and she can see a trace of Ben in his quiet laugh - in the way they laugh under their breath, almost afraid someone could hear them. It's weird, but they look so different - Ben, all dark and gloomy, and Luke all sharp light and brightness - she never noticed the ways they are actually alike. There's something on Luke's face that reminds her of Ben - a sort of shadow, the mark of the years.  
  
"Don't worry about it," Luke says, waving a hand and shaking his head, still laughing. "I know I look old, but I've been young too, and I've seen worse when I used to hang with my sister and her boyfriend".  
  
Rey laughs too, and, even if her cheeks are still red, she doesn't feel awkward in his presence anymore. Luke's kind, and funny, and she likes his wrinkled face and the way he laughs - and he doesn't seem bothered by the fact that he has caught his nephew and her making out in his shop, which is definitely a bonus factor.  
  
"Rey," he says her name in a serious tone, and the mood shifts, somehow. She looks at him, and instinctively walks toward the counter, under his pensive gaze. His eyes are sharp and cutting, and there's a sort of intensity to him - not the same as Ben, but something born out of experience and life. "I know my nephew is a difficult person to deal with. I had my share of trouble," he says, honestly, and gives her a small, tired smile. "It's just ... He's been through a lot. And I'm glad he has you, now".  
  
Rey studies him, in silence, and for the first time she realizes that whatever made Ben the way he is now - whatever hell he has walked into, whatever event has destroyed him and put him together like this -, Luke must have been there too and he must have felt it, too. Whatever Ben went through, Luke had experienced it too, at least a little bit. She can see it in his eyes, and she wonders what really happened to them.  
  
But she can wait, until Ben feels comfortable enough to share.  
  
"I like him, Luke," she replies, quietly. Luke has been honest with her, and she wants to repay him, telling him the truth. She doesn't see a point in lying at all - Luke's just looking after Ben, and she wants nothing but protect him, shield his gentle soul from everything in the world. "I really like him. And I think he has a gentle heart, underneath it all".  
  
Luke looks at her, almost studying her face, and then he sighs - a sound that speaks of resignation and exhaustion. "I wish he could see it too," he says, and there's such a sadness in his eyes Rey chokes on her words. He seems to come back to the present, and shakes his head. "Oh, don't mind me. I'm getting old and I turn pensive and sad. Just," he sighs again, and then smiles up at her. "Take care of him".  
  
It should feel awkward - after all, Rey is not sure her and Ben are even technically dating. There have been just kisses and sweet words, and it should be awkward, but somehow, it isn't. Luke is looking at her with his sharp, light blue eyes and he's asking her to protect Ben, to take care of him, and she doesn't know how to tell him how much she intends to do just that - to kiss him, and wrap her arms around him, and keep him against her, shielding him from his own thoughts just like he does with her.  
  
They are two lost causes, somehow, but they fit together just right.  
  
In the end, she just nods. "I will, Luke," she says, giving him a smile. "I promise," she adds, thinking about Ben, and his lost expression that day at The Resistance, when he talked about his scars. She knows they're no way to fix people, but maybe she can pour love and affection on all his wounds, until they are just fading white scars. Maybe it's wishful thinking, but she's stubborn and determined and she won't give up.  
  
Luke smiles too, and it's a warm and bright smile, the one she has learned to know over the years. "I know you will," he replies, and there's trust on his face as he looks up at her. He trusts her - what a weird thing, to be trusted by someone. She never had someone to trust before coming here - before finding a sort of family with Poe and Finn and Rose, and Ben.  
  
The conversation is interrupted by the door again, and Ben walks in, a few plants in his arms that he settles on the floor. When he raises himself and notices she's still here, talking with Luke, he blushes and makes his way to the counter with a hand at the back of his neck.

"What," he tries to say, awkward and insecure, but Rey gives him a smile and stretches out her hand, and he takes it in a heartbeat, lacing their fingers together with ease. Luke doesn't seem to be bothered - he looks at them with a smile on his face, but he says nothing.  "What were you talking about?" Ben asks, in the end, as he traces patterns on the back of her hand with his thumb.  
  
Luke answers before she can, and truth be told she's glad, because she wouldn't have known what to say. "Oh, nothing, I was just telling her of your emo phase in high school," he says, smiling up at his nephew. "I was about to show her some picture".  
  
Ben whines - there's no other way to put it, he just whines. " _Luke_ ".  
  
She laughs, and squeezes his hand, and Ben turns into her direction with a blush on his face. It's amazing, to think that he was just a glaring, terrifying guy just few months ago.

"It's okay, I already guessed you had one," she tells him, and he groans, throwing his head back, and Rey finds him adorable, and wants to cover his throat with kisses. She doesn't, because she suspects Luke wouldn't be too happy about it, even if he seems cool now. "I'm sure you were very cute".  
  
Ben groans again, and Luke chuckles. "I was a fucking _tragedy_ , that's what I was," he replies, running a hand through his hair, and Rey laughs, imagining him in high school, all gawky and awkward and with his boyish smile - she would have liked him, she thinks. She would have spent all her lunch hours with him, trying to make him smile and laugh.  
  
"A cute tragedy," she says, and she can see him blush and she likes it so much. She raises to her tiptoes again to place a kiss on his cheek, innocent enough so Luke won't tease him about it, and then gives him a small smile. "I should go. I have a few appointments today, so I don't know if I'll manage a coffee break," his face falls, and he looks just like a children who didn't have the present he was expecting. She smiles. "But you can swing by, so we can take an appointment for the tattoo. And choose a day for the other thing". _For the date_ , she wants to say, but she doesn't want to embarrass him in front of Luke, which shouldn't even be a point, since he caught them making out, but somehow, Ben's soul feels so fragile to her, and she wants to protect it as best as she can.  
  
His face lights up, and he nods, eagerly. "I will," he says, before lowering himself a little bit to place a kiss right at the corner of her mouth. Her eyes flutter shut almost automatically. "Have a good day".  
  
_I could get used to this_ , she thinks, as he smiles at her and waves her goodbye, _I could definitely get used to this.  
_

 

*

  
  
Ben really swings by the studio in the afternoon, and he walks in with a cup of coffee in his hands and a small smile on his face that makes her heart skip a beat or more.  
  
Poe raises his eyes from his desk to look at him, but he says nothing - just a smirk hanging at the corner of his mouth. Rey doesn't even notice him, too busy staring at Ben, at his disheveled hair and red cheeks.  
  
"Here," he says, handing her the coffee and looking down at her almost hesitantly. His gaze flickers to Poe every now and then, but he says nothing and  Ben seems pretty comfortable, after all. Rey's heart seems on the verge of exploding in her chest. "You said you didn't have a break so I thought you could use your daily dose of coffee abomination".  
  
Her hands curve around the cup almost automatically, even if she's staring at him in disbelief. "You remembered my order?"  
  
Ben seems as surprised as she is, and he blinks a few times, before answering.

"Of course," he replies, almost as if it was obvious. But it's not - she doesn't even remember if she ever said her order out loud when they were together. He has studied her, he has taken notes on her. It makes her heart stop completely in her chest, and she realizes no one ever took the time to do so - to memorize her so thoroughly. She can hear Poe snort, and trying to hide a laugh, but she doesn't care. Ben shifts awkwardly his weight from one foot to another, and fumbles with his hands. "Well, it's pretty difficult to forget such an atrocity, anyway," he adds, embarrassed.  
  
She laughs, shaking her head. "It's not an atrocity," she says, taking a sip of her coffee. He brought her coffee - he actually took the time to head to The Resistance and remember her order and buy her coffee just because he thought she could need it. It feels surreal, to realize that this is her life now.  
  
"Yeah, because you have awful tastes," he replies, and there's a smile on his face - his crooked smile, all dimpled and boyish, so innocent and beautiful.

"Oh, shut up, you pretentious emo," she leans in a little bit on her desk and, with her free hand, grabs his uniform - he looks very nice in it, in pastel colors, she makes a note to tell him that - and pulls him down for a brief kiss. He's surprised and his arms flail a bit, but then his hands cup her face, tenderly, his thumb brushing up against her cheekbones as if he was smoothing her skin.  
  
She only lets him go when she hears Poe cough, eloquently, and even then she smiles up at him, too happy to care about anything else. Ben looks surprised, but he smiles too and she wants to protect that smile for the rest of her life.

"Thank you," she says, resuming her position at the desk and taking another sip of her coffee. "So, you're here for an appointment?" she asks him, then, flashing a mischievous smile at him.  
  
He stutters a little bit on his words, and Rey's heart goes still for a whole moment.  
  
He ends up taking an appointment for his tattoo next month, and they settle their date for the next day. He promises to pick her up and she kisses him, again, briefly, and then he's leaving and he's blushing, and Rey can't help but smile.  
  
"So," Poe says, after a while, finally looking up from his desk and staring at her with a knowing smile on his lips. "A date".  
  
Rey blushes, but she doesn't look away. "Yes".  
  
"You're dating," Poe repeats, his voice flat and calm, even if he's smirking and raising his eyebrows at her.

She supposes she deserves it - she has been teasing him about Finn before they even started dating, and she has no intention to stop now that they're literally making out on every available surface every time they see each other, so yeah, she has earned it. But it's embarrassing all the same.  
  
"Yes, we are," she replies, trying not to betray her unease - but she knows it's a losing game with Poe. He knows better than anybody else, after all - he has seen her grow up since she was eighteen and he probably has all her quirks and expressions memorized somewhere in his brain, so she supposes she can't really hide anything from him.  
  
He does notices, and his smirk widens. "You like him".  
  
"I do".  
  
"And he likes you," he adds, because apparently, they are stating the obvious now.  
  
Rey shrugs, even if her mind goes back to New Year's Day, and they way he held her gaze as he told her he liked her. It makes her shiver.

"Well, I hope he does, otherwise I would be wasting time," she says, crossing her arms over her chest, almost as if to protect herself. She doesn't want to share that memory with anyone, not even with Poe. It's something that belongs to her - and to Ben, bright eyes against the night, looking down at her like she was a supernova bursting through space and blinding him. "Are you going to keep this up for long?"  
  
He sighs, and then he shakes his head - a hint of a smile still hanging around his lips, as usual. It's very difficult to see Poe without a smile on his face, these days, and Rey is really happy for him, underneath it all.

"No, sorry," he replies, and then he gives her a sheepish gaze, so uncommon for him that his face seems almost to reject it. "I'm just happy for you, kid," he adds, as the usual smile returns to his face, bright and warm and definitely _Poe_. "You're like, family. Someone has to torment you and keep an eye on you".  
  
_Family_. The word hangs in the air for a minute, before she can truly grasp it, and when she does, she stares at him with wide eyes and parted lips, not sure about what to say.

"You really think I'm family?" she asks, in the end, because when things get too good, it's probably a dream.  
  
But Poe doesn't vanish into thin air - he smiles, and his smile turns soft and less cheeky, and he looks at her like he's seeing her for the first time.

"Well, I have known you since you were a kid," he says, shrugging, and Rey is so overwhelmed she doesn't even tell him she wasn't a kid - she was eighteen, and it wasn't even _that_ long ago. "And you used to sleep on my couch. Me and BB8 have basically adopted you, sweetheart. Of course you're family".  
  
She feels her eyes sting, and she finds herself on the verge of tears for the second time today, and she feels very stupid, but also very grateful for all the things she has. She never had so much in her life - she never had something to come back to at the end of the day, or someone to trust, or someone who called her family. She never had so much to lose in her life, and she wants, she needs to protect all of it from the world.  
  
She sniffs a little bit, and Poe pretends not to notice it, and Rey is glad. She's glad she has him, and glad that he knows her so well. "Anyway," she says, after a while, when she trusts her voice not to waver. "This doesn't give you the right to taunt me".  
  
At that, Poe laughs - and it's warm, and it speaks of friendship and love and unwavering loyalty. Of family. It feels like a sparkling fireplace, inviting her to stay and rest her weary bones.

"Oh, kid," he says, when his laughter quiets down. "That's exactly what family does".  
  
In the end, she doesn't complain.  


*

  
Ben is waiting, leaning on his car with a bashful expression, when she exits her building, and her heart does the usual twist in her ribcage - so usual, she doesn't even have to ask herself what it means anymore.  
  
It's a beautiful image - his tall frame, leaning against his car, with his long legs splayed in front of him, and his hair falling softly around his face, making him sweeter and gentler, somehow. His cheekbones are as sharp as ever, and his full lips are curved in a small smile, and the streetlight casts a beautiful shadow on his face, and he looks like a movie - an old one, in black and white, the ones Poe used to make her watch when they had a day off. He looks wonderful like this, and Rey wants to cry and smile at the same time.  
  
"You're beautiful," Ben says, as she walks up to him and his eyes take her in, lingering on her face, and she smiles, tilting her head so she can better look at him. He's wearing dark clothes, as usual, but there's a sort of luminosity around him, and she can't help but smile.  
  
"You're not so bad yourself," she replies and Ben blushes, and then she's raising herself to place a kiss on his cheek and caress his face with her hand, and he's looking at her like she's something wondrous, and she can't help but shiver.  
  
He seems to remember something, because he pulls away just slightly to reach for something in the car, and then he's blushing and he's handing her a bouquet, and he's babbling about flowers and-  
  
Her hands curve around the flowers, not sure how to react. It's a bouquet of daisies, simple and pure, so bright and white it almost blinds her eyes. Her fingers brush against the leaves and the petals in disbelief, and when she raises her eyes again, she is staring at him and blinking, trying to process the information.

"Is this for me?" she asks, surprised, and Ben furrows his brow - the usual wrinkle making its way into his forehead.  
  
"Yes," he replies, immediately, and then he brings a hand at the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. "I didn't know which flowers you liked, so I picked my favorite ones instead".  
  
There's a moment of silence, and she's staring at him without knowing what to say, and he seems almost uncomfortable, because then he starts to talk again.

"Now that I say it out loud, it sounds pretty egotistical. I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to be-" he interrupts himself, and breathes deeply, before looking down at her again. "I just wanted you to have something of me".  
  
There's another brief pause.  
  
"And now it sounds cheesy" he adds, and then he sighs. "Look, don't mind it, okay? It was just a stupid thought anyway and-"

Oh God, does he ever stop talking? She can't believe it - only a few months before she had to coax words out of his lips and now he won't _shut up_.  
  
"Ben," she says, and he stops immediately, looking down at her with a blush on his face and a mortified expression. "It's beautiful. I- I don't know what to say," she adds, looking up at him and she can feel her eyes sting again and she doesn't care. Nobody ever gave her flowers - she wasn't even sure flowers were a thing that really existed, until she came here. The flowers she found in the desert, growing despite everything else, were the only exception. "Thank you".  
  
Ben seems shaken and surprised, and he puts his arms around her almost immediately, holding her against his body. He's warm and firm and real, and she wants to stay there forever. When he kisses her, it feels like every broken piece in her soul is being repaired, and she holds onto him, bringing a hand to his chest and feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under her fingertips.

"I actually don't know which flowers I like," she says, pressing a kiss to his jaw, marveling at the way he lets out a small, surprised gasp as her lips shower him in kisses. He seems so surprised, every time, and it breaks her heart. "I mean, I had never seen so many flowers before. It's always been just, you know, the desert. Flowers don't really grow there".

He pulls away just slightly to stare at her, and Rey isn't sure, but she almost believes there are tears in his eyes. "Well," he replies, quietly, kissing her forehead, so sweetly it makes her shiver. "We'll find out together".

It sounds definitely too good to be true, but somehow it is.  
  
They end up in a small restaurant - nothing too fancy, but private and beautiful. He pours her wine, and they talk about their lives and their hobbies, and it doesn't feel weird or uncomfortable - it feels like always, like coming home after a long journey, and it's welcome and warm and everything nice. It feels like the gentle morning sun, stepping in through the shutters, warming up her body and lighting up her room, bathing her in the dawn. Ben smiles over his glass, and she can't help but smile too, and everything shines around them.  
  
She tells him about coming to Naboo with nothing but a few dollars in her pocket, and asking, begging Poe to take her in as his apprentice, and working two jobs and sleeping in the backroom of the studio until Poe had discovered her and had offered a place on his couch until they had found an apartment cheap enough she could afford it, and had helped her move in. She tells him about the strangeness of all of it - of having a whole house all for herself, of not having to share her room with anybody else. Of the silence, the first time she truly felt it. Of feeling uneasy and jittery the first months, not used to it.  
  
He tells her about moving to Naboo with his uncle - he doesn't really talk about before, but he mentions Coruscant, and a terrible job he had to quit there, and Rey holds his hand through it, stroking his skin with a reassuring smile, easing him into her. He tells her about his apartment, so much smaller than the one he had in Coruscant, and so much quieter - and the silence, something he never truly felt until he had come here, almost unsettling in his quietness.   
  
They are more alike than they thought, and when she looks down at their hands, his fingers fit perfectly in hers, and maybe they had always belonged there, even if they didn't know.

"You are really something special," he says, staring at her with flames in his eyes, but a soft, tender smile on his lips, and for the first time in her life, Rey believes those words. She's always been nothing, born and raised in the middle of nowhere, but he looks at her like she's a whole universe he wants to explore, and - she believes him.

"You are too, Ben," she murmurs back, tracing patterns along the back of his hand. The bruises are mostly faded by now, a yellowish hue over his knuckles and nothing more, but she strokes his hand anyway, her fingers ghosting over the place where his skin was broken just a few days ago, and he shivers under her touch. She raises her eyes, staring at him, and she can read him so easily now - his fears and his insecurities, and that big, terrible longing eating away at his heart even if he still tries to hold back. "I really like you" she tells him again, because she wants him to never doubt her and her feelings, and she wants to erase that fear in the back of his eyes. She never had someone to tell her that, and so she tells him, because she wants and she can. 

He breathes deeply, and when he tries to smile, letting her words sink into his heart, he's so bright all the other lights fade in comparison.  
  
Later, they take a walk in a park nearby. It has snowed, so the park is a winter wonderland, and she takes his hand in hers as they make their way through the streets. She feels like a kid, admiring the bare trees, and the snow, and the beauty of it in the softness of the moonlight. Even his face is somehow gentler, and his features are less sharp, and he looks down at her with wonder in his eyes, looking at her the same way she looks at the snow.  
  
It's almost too much, but not quite. It's a sensation verging both on painful and pleasant, and it's wonderful.  
  
"Hey," he says, stopping in the middle of the park and looking down at her, with a little smile on his face. The corner of his eyes are wrinkled. "You've never built a snowman, haven't you?"  
  
She shakes her head - of course she hasn't. Jakku wasn't exactly a snowy place, and even if now snow is a sort of constant in the winter, she'd feel ridiculous - she's almost twenty-five years old, and she can't just build a snowman as if she were a kid.  
  
But Ben just grins, widely, and tugs her hand, dragging her in the middle of a snow-covered area. "Here, I'll teach you how".  
  
He really does. The snow is cold, and wetter than she imagined and her hands get frozen almost immediately, but it's funny and wonderful, and it feels like everything she has missed over the years.

"Here," he says, as he removes his gloves and hands them to her. Rey raises an eyebrow, and tries to protest, but he's quick to shake his head and take one of her hands into his own. "You're going to freeze. I am used to this kind of weather," he adds, as he gently warms up her frozen hand, and then puts on his black glove. It's - well, bigger than her whole hand, and she feels like a kid, but he smiles down at her, eyes shining against the snowy wonderland, and she can't really say anything.

She tries anyway, because that's who she is. "You can't get used to snow," she protests, as he takes her other hand, always so gently, slipping on his glove. "You're going to lose your hands, Ben. I saw that happen on tv and it was not nice".

He laughs, quietly, and then presses a kiss right on her forehead. "Shut up".

And then, before she realizes, he's pulling away from her and he's giggling and throwing a snowball in her direction, and she glares at him, but she's laughing too. It all feels so simple and natural, and she loves it.  
  
They end up making a nice snowman, small and round. Ben retrieves a few stick for its arms, and then smiles at her, enthusiastically. She feels like a kid, but, surprisingly, she loves it. She loves every single thing about it, in a way she has never felt - her heart seems to swell in her chest to welcome all the love she is feeling right now, and she's certain it must be pouring from her skin and her eyes right now, but she doesn't mind.

She walks up to him and throws her arms around him, and Ben holds her, laughing quietly - his usual laugh, under his breath almost as if he was scared of being heard, and she likes him, she likes him, she likes him so much it actually hurts, and this is so big and scary but she isn't afraid anymore, not when his arms are around her frame, protecting her just as she's protecting him.  
  
"You're good at this," she murmurs, against his chest, and he places a kiss on her forehead, as they stare at their snowman. It misses a nose, but it's pretty cute, nevertheless. Her first snowman - it feels like a dream.   
  
"My father taught me how. We used to have a snowball fight and then he helped me build a snowman," he says, and there's a melancholy to his words, but also fondness, and a sort of nostalgia, taking hold of his bones. It feels like something is pulling him back in the past, but it's not painful - his face seems quiet and pensive, but not hurt. She wraps her arms tighter around him, and he lets her, stroking her back.  
  
"You must have been really close," she comments, placing her head on his chest. She can hear his heartbeat under the layer of clothes, and it's something plain and normal and ordinary, but marvellous all the same.   
  
"Yeah, we were, for a time," Ben replies, leaving a trail of sweet kisses on her forehead, his lips hot and soft against her skin. "Then we fell apart, as it happens when you grow up," he adds, and then there's a small pause, before he talks again. She can feel him tense up a bit, so she strokes his back with her hands, sweetly. "He died last year".  
  
Rey stays in silence for a minute, wondering what to say. This is uncharted territory for her - she knows about abandonment, neglect, loneliness, yes she's an expert on that. But she never had parents to mourn, and death is just another big thing she doesn't know how to face.

"Ben, I'm so sorry," she says, hesitantly, tightening her grip on him. He breathes in and out, slowly, and then he melts into her touch, soft against her.  
  
"It's okay," he says, gently. "We hadn't talked in more than ten years. You can't really miss someone who isn't a part of your life anymore, can't you?"  
  
It feels like he's searching both for a confirmation and for a contradiction, and she doesn't really know what to say. She thinks of her parents, leaving her in that orphanage when she was five or six - she remembers, or at least she thinks she does but it could be a dream, their backs turned on her as they walked away, and her desperately trying to run after them, crying, calling them, begging them to come back, even if just for a minute, just to come back and love her for one last moment. Sometimes, at night, she still thinks about it.  
  
_You can't really miss someone who isn't a part of your life anymore,_ Ben says, but it's not that simple.   
  
"It's okay, Ben," she raises her eyes, and then gives him a small smile, pulling away just slightly to better look at him, and reassure him. "It's okay to miss him".  
  
He lets out a shaky breath, and then he sinks into her - there's no other way to put it, he just sinks. He lets his head fall on her shoulder and his hands grip the fabric of her coat so tightly, almost crushing her into him, and his shoulders shake under her arms and he's not quite sobbing or crying, he's just breathing heavily against her neck, but it feels like he's falling apart beneath her hands, and she's trying to pull him together somehow.

She kisses his temple, sweetly, and cards her fingers through his hair, and whispers sweet things into his ear, stroking his back.   
  
He's broken into pieces, and he's not afraid to show it to her anymore. He crumbles in front of her, but somehow, beneath all the brokenness and desperation and the debris, there's a shining, flickering, unbreakable soul, and she holds it in her arms.  
  
"I'm sorry," he says, after a while, against her neck. His shoulders have stopped shivering, and his breath is even, but she can feel the way he still trembles, hesitantly. He doesn't let go of her coat, and she doesn't ask him to. "I suppose that's not how a date should go".  
  
She smiles, and kisses his temple again. "I think we can agree on the fact that we both have issues," she says, and he laughs, quietly, again her shoulder. It's a shaky laugh, and it breaks her heart, but she still holds him to her and strokes his hair, soft and velvety between her fingers. "It's okay, Ben. Really".  
  
He nods against her shoulder, and he doesn't let her go, and she wraps her arms around him, keeping him against her. They hold onto each other in the middle of a snowy landscape, but when Ben presses a kiss to her neck, gently, as if to thank her, it feels the warmest of all the places.  



	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He doesn't know what to do half of the time, honestly - he never had a relationship before, never even wanted one, even as a teenager. But it feels pretty natural and spontaneous as she looks up at him with glittering eyes, and he doesn't feel as awkward and hopeless and desperate anymore.
> 
> He just feels - quiet.
> 
> For the first time in his life, when she's around, he feels quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apparently i'm still abord the fluff train, and i'm not going to get off of it. i'm realizing just now how cheesy i am, but apparently that's not going to change.  
> also, have some smut because yes ;)
> 
> as usual, thank you for your kind words and kudos!!

In the morning, he's usually woken up by his phone, notifying him the presence of a text, and Ben is taken out of his nightmare and into the real world without even being able to tell apart the two.

To be honest, it takes a while.  
  
It takes a while for his mind to wrap itself around the notion of someone caring for him, and it takes a while for his heart to stop hammering in his chest every time he wakes up in the morning, making him jolt, sweat covering his forehead as he desperately tries to convince himself that this is not a dream or a delusion.  
  
_It can't be true_ , the usual voice in his mind reminds him, _no one could ever love you_.

And the worst part is that it's right, really - his parents tried, until they couldn't anymore, and Luke is kind, but Ben's not sure his uncle actually loves him. He's not sure he's actually lovable in the first place. He's broken and maybe unfixable, and his heart is battered and full of scars, just like his skin, and he doesn't _know_ \- could he really be loved, against all odds?  
  
It's really hard to believe it.  
  
He wakes up every morning with a voice whispering awful thing in his ear, reviving the nightmares from the night before, and he has to breathe deeply, eyes closed and fists clenched in the sheets, to calm his erratic mind. There are times in which he really believes this is a dream, and he has dreamt Rey for himself because he was too lonely and sad and a fucking poor excuse of a man, a failure no one is going to take blame for, not even himself. There are times in which he can only see the darkness in his soul, the points in which his soul is cracked and bleeding, and he can't believe somebody would even try to accept that, let alone love it. Love _him_.  
  
Those are awful, terrible moments - moments in which the old urge comes back with a new strength, and he feels desperation creeping up on him again, settling in the place between his shoulder blades and breaking him from the inside, clinging on his ribs as breathing becomes difficult, heavy, impossible.

It would be so easy, he tells himself as he stares down at his hands. So easy, so easy, _so easy_ \- the words echo in his mind until they don't mean a thing anymore, and he's left staring at his skin, imagining it cracking open under his gaze. The mere thought of it - of blood - is haunting, but also calming, in a sick way.   
  
Those are the worst times.  
  
But then he remembers his mother's voice, over the phone, granting him the forgiveness he doesn't think he deserves, telling him she loves him and nothing can change that. He thinks about Luke, patting his arm as they walk side by side in the shop, telling him he's proud of Ben, giving him something no one ever gave him - a possibility, a new beginning. And then, he thinks about Rey, and his thoughts linger for a bit - her arms around him as he breathed into her neck, and her lips against his temple, pulling all the broken pieces of his soul together, somehow. He thinks about the beauty of her smile, and the softness of her kisses, and the warmth of her arms, and he can't believe it, but maybe the fact that he can't really accept that doesn't make a difference at all.  
  
They're still out there, loving him, whether he believes it or not, whether he can accept their love of not.  
  
Maybe it's not about them, maybe it's about him.  
  
Maybe it's another kind of pain he has to learn to live with.  
  
It's a lot to think about in the morning, and he can't really process it. Some walls have crumbled down, but others are tougher and stronger and thicker, and no matter how hard people try - they're still there, they're still indestructible.   
  
He sighs, running a hand through his hair, and he usually grabs his phone, and there, waiting for him, are little texts Rey sends him when she's on the bus. Sometimes it's just an emoji (She uses emoji, Ben can't believe it. He's not sure emoji are actually regarded as a form of communication.), other times it's her giving him a good morning or ranting against people on public transportation. It's nothing long or elaborate - she is not a great texter, and neither is he and, after all, they're going to see each other in a while, so it doesn't really matter.   
  
But the fact that she thinks of him, even for a small second, warms his heart, and makes him believe this is really happening. She doesn't know, and he will never tell her - but, every time his thoughts become too much to bear and his mind doubts this is really happening, she gives him, in her own quiet way, a proof of her existence and he's glad. She doesn't know, but somehow, she brings him back to shore every time he gets lost at sea.  
  
A smile creeps on his face and the reality of it finally settles down in his mind. He's dating Rey. He's in a relationship with Rey.  
  
He doesn't know what to do half of the time, honestly - he never had a relationship before, never even wanted one, even as a teenager. But it feels pretty natural and spontaneous as she looks up at him with glittering eyes, and he doesn't feel as awkward and hopeless and desperate anymore.  
  
He just feels - quiet.  
  
For the first time in his life, when she's around, he feels quiet.

 

*

 

"So," Luke says, as he pours hot coffee into a mug and places it on the table, sliding it to Ben with a disproving look and a sigh ("You should stop drinking so much coffee," he has said over and over again, but Ben has just looked at him, flatly, not really following him. How else is he supposed to function?), before shrugging and shaking his head, as if he knew it was pretty much a loosing battle. 

Ben takes the mug in his hands, focusing on the heat radiating from it, and sighing, waiting for whatever Luke is waiting to say. He looks around, trying to focus on something that isn't his uncle's cutting gaze, and he fixes his eyes on the mountain of books piling up in his living room, the one they're supposed to be fixing on the shelves of Luke's new library, which is - still in pieces, to be honest. Luke's house is silent and warm, and it reminds him of a sacred temple, something solemn radiating from every room. He is reminded of the first few days here, when he didn't have his own place, sleeping on his uncle's couch and feeling as if the whole house was somehow alive. It's really been a while, he realizes. 

"So," Luke repeats, catching his attention again. Ben brings his eyes on him, raising his eyebrows to nudge him, while he brings the mug to his lips and lets the familiar taste of caffeine clear his mind. "Rey," he adds, finally sitting down at the table and looking at him with a smile hovering around his lips.  
  
Ben blushes furiously, and proceeds to stare down at his coffee. He knows Luke is staring at him with a smirk on his face and the worst part is that - he deserves it. After all, he has caught them making out in his shop, Ben can't really blame him and his inquiry. He just wishes he didn't feel like a teenager caught by his parents.

"Yeah," he says, nodding, still staring at his coffee as if it could give him some sort of answer or advice on this situation. When it's clear that the coffee isn't going to help him beside making him more awake and jittery, Ben sighs. "Rey," he repeats, because it seems the safest thing to do, and because, despite being over thirty years old, he's probably still a dumb teenager.  
  
At that, Luke laughs, quietly. It's his usual laugh - something soft, uttered under his breath, and Ben knows he's not laughing at him or trying to mock him. Despite everything Ben has done and ruined, Luke is kind to him, more than he probably deserves, and when he laughs, it feels like something warm enveloping his soul.  
  
It's so different from the piercing, terrifying laugh he used to hear everyday at the First Order, following him, circling him like sharks in the water. It's been months, but he can't really shake the thought off his back - it's like a weight he carries with himself everywhere he goes. Sometimes, it's almost imperceptible. Other times, it brings him down.  
  
He supposes it will take time.  
  
Luke stretches out his hand, and it curves around his, on the mug. It feels - weird. He hasn't been touched in years, isolation and loneliness creating a sort of cage around him and his heart, and now it feels almost overwhelming, with Luke taking his hand and Rey holding him tight and even Poe and Finn sometimes patting his back. It's too much, but also not enough, and he finds himself starved for it - for the warmth and the heat and the ease of an embrace. He had forgotten what it meant to be touched and loved and cared for, and now it feels suffocating, but he also knows he can't live without it anymore.   
  
"Ben, you don't have to talk about it," Luke says, gently, as his fingers stroke his skin. It's weird, but also nice. He doesn't remember the last time somebody touched him like that, before Naboo. Probably it had been his mother - reassuring him, calming him, before things went utterly wrong. Before he fucked up, again. The memory brings a new, sharp pain, and he can't help but whimper, like a wounded animal. "I'm just happy you're giving yourself a chance".  
  
Ben looks up from his coffee to stare into the cutting, light blue eyes right in front of him.

"You really think," he tries to say, and words seems stuck somewhere between his lips and his throat, and he has to take a deep breath, before trying again. "You really think I'm giving myself a chance?"   
  
He sounds so hopeful and terrified at the same time - he sounds vulnerable, he sounds like a _kid_ , like his younger self, when he used to ask his mother if his father was really coming back, and he almost hates himself for it, but then Luke smiles softly, and his fingers grip his wrist, tight enough to make him jolt, but not to cause any pain. Oh, Luke has been so considerate, Ben thinks - he doesn't even let him touch the roses. Sometimes it makes him feel like a kid, and there's a sort of exhaustion nestled between his shoulder blades, but then he notices the look on Luke's face, so terrified even if he tries not to be, and he thinks he could do this. He has to, for him. There's something he can't erase from his mind, no matter how hard he tries - and that's the horror and the terror on his uncle's face when he found him, days after his father's death. Luke didn't deserve that then, and doesn't deserve it now, and he has to do this, he has to make this work.  
  
"But you are, Ben," he replies, smiling at him, as his fingers try to reassure him. "I remember when I came to Coruscant. I couldn't even touch you and you didn't speak a word. It was so painful".  
  
Ben nods, staring down at his coffee again, knowing all too well they both are avoiding mentioning everything that has happened in Coruscant. "I'm sorry," he says, almost automatically, because that's his standard reaction when he hears about himself - being sorry.

He knows he has hurt Luke more times than Luke himself likes to admit, and he is sorry - sorry for all the pain he has put Luke, and his mother, and even his father through. There are people he can't apologize to anymore - " _Talk after the beep. Or don't, whatever,_ ", but what can he say to an empty answering machine? -, so he has to say he's sorry to the ones that remain. He has to.  
  
But Luke surprises him, as usual. He can hear him shake his head, and then the grip on his wrist tightens a little bit, still not enough to be hurting but enough to bring him back to Earth, to ease him into the real world, pulling him away from his thoughts.

"No, Ben, this is not your fault," he says, and the worst thing is that he really believes it - he really thinks this is not his fault.

Oh, not all the things he has done, that are definitely his fault. But the hurt and the pain he put them through - Luke is telling him that he's not responsible for it, and how could that ever be? He has always felt the weight of the entire world on his shoulders, and now, after more than thirty years like this, he doesn't know how to shake it out.

"But look at you now. You smile and you try your best, and you seem quiet, somehow. You make Rey happy, and I believe she makes you happy, too".  
  
Ben nods, without saying a word, because he doesn't know what to say, and he doesn't trust his voice enough right now. He thinks about Rey, and the way her hand feels in his - warm, as natural as breathing. Not easy, because breathing has always been difficult for him, but natural, and never taken for granted. Does he really make her happy? He doesn't know, but she does. She makes him happy, somehow. Between doubts and fears and old urges, she makes him happy.  
  
"You are giving yourself a chance," Luke repeats, kindly, and Ben lets that words sink into his skin, in his blood, in his heart. "You're doing good, kid".  
  
It's difficult to believe it, even if he knows Luke isn't lying to him - but his brain can't accept the idea of doing good, and can't wrap itself around the notion of him being okay, for once. It will take time, he tells himself. It will take time. He repeats it in his mind, trying to let his brain adjust to the idea. _It will take time._  
  
"Come on, drink your poison," Luke says, pulling away his hand with kindness, and then smirking at him. "You promised to help me put together the new library, you can't walk out of it that easily".  
  
At that, Ben laughs, bringing the mug to his lips.

 

*

 

  
"Come on, I'll wait for the bus with you," he tells Rey, as he waves goodbye to Luke, who is currently watching him with a smile that could probably verge on delirious. Poe gives them the thumbs up (he's still not sure what it means. He's finding out that Poe and Finn and Rey all communicate in a weird way, and he's been out of it for too long to truly understand them, but he tries.) as they walk away, and Ben nods into his general direction, lips pressed together. BB8 barks, and he supposes it's a sort of goodbye.  
  
It's closing time, and he's walking Rey to the bus stop in the cold air of the evening, holding her hand into his, still surprised by the fact that he can, and probably high on it. Her skin is warm and soft against his, and his heart does a weird jump in his throat every time she turns into his direction to smile at him. Her hair flies around her face in brown waves, and her eyes are as luminous as ever and he's gone, gone, _gone_.  
  
He feels cheesy and sappy and everything he never thought he could be, but he can't help it, not when she's looking at him like that, with her kind eyes, smiling just because he's there with her. It's something new and surprising - usually, his presence caused fear and unease, at best, or mocking laughter at worst, and his mind can't really process the fact that Rey actually enjoys his company.   
  
_Maybe it's a trick_ , the voice in his mind tells him, _maybe she's just mocking you_ \- but her eyes are sincere and warm, and the curve of her smile speaks of something that feels like belonging, and it's terrifying, but also beautiful. It's haunting, and it keeps him awake at night, staring at the ceiling and waiting for the moment everything will go to hell, knowing far too well that good things are not meant to last, not in his wretched existence.

But Rey squeezes his hand, bringing him back to the present, and for a moment he can forget everything else.  
  
Maybe everything will go to hell, maybe he'll ruin this too - but right now, she takes him by his hand and doesn't let him go, and his heart is more alive than ever. And maybe it's enough for now.  
  
"Would you consider letting me give you a lift?" he asks, as they reach the bus stop, and Rey raises her eyes - so bright, against the dark sky - to look at him, wrinkling her nose. The wind sweeps her hair around and reddens her cheek, and she is messy and looks so human and real like this - even his desperate mind couldn't imagine the intricate pattern of freckles on the bridge of her nose or the way her hair curls around her face in soft waves, and she's not a fantasy or a dream, but flesh and bones under his eyes, and he's so full of wonder and love his heart seems to burst.  
  
"I live on the other side of the city," she protests, as stubborn as ever, pressing her lips together. "It's a long distance. I don't want to make you drive to there and back".  
  
Oh, how beautiful, how stubborn, how thoughtful - he wasn't expecting anything different from the girl who grew up in the desert on her own, tending improbable flowers and keeping everything to herself.  
  
He chuckles, brushing a strand of hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear, with an ease he would have found impossible just a few weeks before. But she smiles up at him, and somehow it's easier. There's still fear in the back of his mind, and most of the times he feels at loss, not quite sure about what to do, but she takes his hand and guides him into her, and she makes it easier, somehow. He remembers her, clinging to him, her head on his chest as she told him he made things easier for her, and he can't really believe that, but he understands her completely.

"I have a car," he reminds her, raising his eyebrow but smiling down at her, because it's impossible not to, even if he's teasing her. "That's exactly the purpose of a car. To cover long distances in a shorter time".  
  
She laughs, throwing her head back and exposing the beautiful column of her throat. He wants to kiss her skin more than everything else in the whole world, and this leaves him breathless.

"Don't be a smartass," she tells him, when the laughter quiets down. "Okay, I'll let you give me a lift. But only if you come home with me".  
  
He's surprised, and he blinks a few times to assure himself that she's real and that's really happening.

"Home?" he repeats, pretty stupidly, to be honest, but he supposes he can't really be blamed. She's inviting him at her place, and he feels at loss again. Every time he thinks he has everything under control, she rips the ground off his feet with a smile, and he's left staring at her, breath hitching in his throat. It's frightening, but also entrancing, and he can't help the marvel he feels in his soul as she looks up at him, starry eyed against the darkness.  
  
She blushes a little bit, making her freckles stand out on her face, but she doesn't stop smiling. Her dimples are calling him to her, begging for a kiss. "Yeah, home" she confirms. Her hand is still in his, and she strokes his skin with her thumb, almost as if to reassure him. "Sorry, was that too forward? I really don't know how relationships work".  
  
Rey looks up at him, waiting for a reaction from him, and her smile falters a bit as she does. There's nervousness on her face, and, behind that, a trace of fear in the back of her eyes, even if she tries to hide it, and he likes her so much he feels his eyes sting. He wants to wrap his arms around her and tell her that it's okay, that she's safe now and she doesn't have to keep it together and inside all the time anymore. She's vulnerable and human, in front of him, even if she pretends not to, and he wants nothing more than to lose himself in her and whisper words of love against her skin, burying sweet nonsense in her neck as he lavishes her body with praises and love.  
  
It's a lot to accept.  
  
Ben quickly shakes his head, burying that thought in his mind and trying his best to reassure her. He's never been good with people, and words are more a weapon than a form of communication, on his lips, but he tries anyway.

"No, it's okay," he replies, and then he smiles down at her, heart bursting into his chest as he speaks. "Okay. I'll come home with you".  
  
Her smile is so bright it almost hurts. He's always been comfortable in the darkness, somehow, and he knows shadows have claimed his heart a long time ago, but she smiles for a moment and everything is chased away by the beauty and the light of it. Her hand into his grounds him, and guides him into that abyss of light that is her soul, and he lets her. It will burn him whole, but right now it doesn't matter - and, after all, he has always loved pain, hasn't he?  
  
The car ride is quiet and simple and beautiful in the way ordinary things are, and he thinks he could get used to that - he focuses on the road, driving slower than he usually does, and Rey hums a song under her breath, along with his radio, and yes, he could definitely get used to this and his heart goes wild in his chest, hammering so quickly he loses tracks of its beat. It's a dull sound against his ribcage, and when Rey places a hand on his thigh, kind and gentle as usual, more comforting than anything else, his heart goes completely still and then it explodes like a dying star, leaving behind a blinding supernova in its place.  
  
He knows the way to her apartment by heart by now, and they reach it in less than fifteen minutes. She strokes his thigh again, curving her fingers around his knee, before speaking. "You don't have to, if you don't want to".  
  
Oh, but he wants to. He wants to spend every single moment with her, and come home with her - having a home to come to, for the first time in his life. He wants to lose himself in her, never found, always gone in the hazel of her eyes and the warm pink of her lips, and he aches to - a desperation unlike any other he ever felt, clinging to his bones as he looks at her, in the darkness of his car. He longs to, and this longing almost burns him, leaving invisible scars on his skin, but he doesn't intend to complain.  
  
"I want to".  
  
She smiles again, and this time, it's the soft, gentle smile she gifts him when they are alone.  
  
Her apartment is small and a little bit messy. There are piece of paper almost anywhere, and a lot of prints on the wall, and furniture that don't really agree with each other - but it's nice all the same. It's a stark contrast with his clean and pristine apartment in Coruscant, all sharp lines and black and whites, and with his half empty apartment here in Naboo, with little no furniture even if he's been living here for months.   
  
Rey's apartment is something different - it's warm, and lively, and it's a home, a real and proper home. It feels like something you can come back to, at the end of the day; somewhere you can relax and unwind and be safe for once. It's something he doesn't remember having - even back in his childhood, sometimes his house felt just like any other place: empty and terrifying.   
  
But Rey's place speaks of belonging, of peace, of quiet and he likes it so much it almost makes him want to cry.  
  
"It's not much," she says, as she sheds her coat and places it on the coat hanger next to the door. She takes his too, and he's surprised by the warmth he feels - his apartment always feels so cold, even when he turns on the heating. "But that's all I've got".  
  
"I think it's nice" he replies, instantly, smiling enthusiastically like a little kid. It's with a sort of surprise that he realizes he loves it - really, really loves it. She chuckles, softly.  
  
"Well, now it's decent, at least" she tells him, as she places his coat next to hers on the coat hanger, and shrugs, a little bit of red on her cheeks. "When I moved here I had just a torn mattress and a few chairs. It wasn't very nice to see".  
  
He stretches out his hand, still tentatively, and places it at the small of her back, pulling her close. Rey doesn't protest - she smiles up at him and brings her hands on his chest, stroking the fabric of his sweater.

"Well, I think it's very nice," he repeats, lowering himself a little bit so he can place an innocent kiss on her cheek. Her eyelashes flutter against his skin, as she closes her eyes and sighs, so softly he almost thinks he has imagined it. "It's warm and small and, well, yours. I like it".  
  
He doesn't tell her that he likes the fact that everything here stands because of her - because of her determination, because she persisted despite everything else, because she bloomed through harshness and pain and fear and she made it here, bringing all of it together, including him, just thanks to her will and her determination. He doesn't want to get to sappy about it, and he wouldn't even know how to phrase it, so he just kisses the tip of her nose instead, making her giggle.  
  
"I like seeing you here," she tells him, honest and pure as always, her eyes shining so brightly even here.   
  
Ben smiles, because it's really impossible not to. He barely remembers now how difficult it was, just a few months before - before Rey walked into his life with her arms crossed and an hyperactive corgi by her side. He supposes he has to thank that little chewing monster, eventually.   
  
"I like being here," he replies, and his words are raw and blunt as always - weapons, knives, something made to kill, as Snoke told him every time. But this time, she smiles and for the first time in his life Ben realizes that words are not just meant to kill - they can also soothe and make someone smile.  
  
They make tea in her small kitchen, between kisses and giggles, and then they settle on her couch, drinking it quietly as they watch some episodes of a comedy she likes on her laptop. It feels intimate and simple, as she nestles herself in his arms, and he can hear her breath on his neck, where his sweater leaves his skin exposed, and it's haunting and beautiful. His arm is around her shoulders and his hand rests on her hipbone, tracing small patterns over her clothes. It feels so simple and domestic his eyes sting a bit, and he pretends to focus on the screen to avoid her gaze.   
  
He could definitely get used to this.  
  
His mind screams at him, reminding him of everything he has ruined and fucked up over the years, of all the people he has broken and shattered into nothing, and there it is - the instinct to run away, to leave behind the only good thing he has ever had in more than twenty years because he's afraid and he's a child who never learned to deal with it in a healthy way. He feels jittery, but then her arm comes to rest on his chest, caging him there and clearing up his mind.  
  
"Relax," she murmurs against his neck, soft as always when she's with him. She places a kiss right on his pulse point, and he can feel her in his bloodstream. "It's alright, Ben. You are safe. Everything is fine".  
  
He eases into her touch, and when her hand rest right on his heart, he smiles down at her and kisses her forehead, silently thanking her for understanding him so well. How she manages, he doesn't know, but he supposes it doesn't matter.  
  
Halfway into the second episode, when his mind has quieted down a bit and he feels peaceful and relaxed against her, Rey starts to kiss his neck.

At first, it's just a gentle touch - feather-like kisses that make him shiver, but that are so pleasant and nice. This, he is used to. This, he can handle. Her lips trail gently down his skin and he sighs, feeling her smile against his neck. It's breathtaking, and his eyes flutter shut as she makes her way up and down the column of his throat, pressing sweet kisses with care and love. His hand on her hipbone pulls her closer against him almost instinctively.   
  
Then, her kisses change. She starts to graze at his skin with her teeth, hesitantly, but, even if his breath hitches and his heart jumps in his throat, he doesn't say anything. Her hand on his chest grounds him and keeps him still, as she nibbles at his neck, at first just barely, her teeth brushing against his skin, and then almost sucking a mark on it, as her fingers dig into the fabric of his sweater.  
  
He lets out a small gasp, and something shifts. His hand grips her hipbone almost too forcefully, and she makes a sweet sound he'd die to hear again, and nips again the soft skin of his throat, as her hand starts to stroke his chest. A shiver runs down his spine and he realizes, with a certain degree of surprised, that he's aroused. Her breath on his neck makes him jolt and every time her teeth sink lightly into his skin, he finds himself gasping, almost clawing at her small frame as he does, gripping her hip so tight it must be bruising now.  
  
_Oh God._  
  
"Are you," he says, as she trails up his neck again to nibble at his jaw. Oh God, he thinks. _Oh God_. He can feel his jeans become a little bit too tight and he wants to disappear. It's a miracle if she hasn't already noticed. "Are you trying to distract me?" he asks, and he can feel her giggle against his skin.  
  
_Oh no_. Her breath is hot against his neck and he can't think about anything else and he doesn't know what to do.   
  
"Why? Is it working?" she replies, mischievously, and then she raises her eyes to look at him. There is a smile on her beautiful lips - lips that were on his neck, sucking a mark, just a second ago, he thinks, and then he has to stop himself from whimpering out loud. _Oh God_ -, and her hand slowly makes its way from his chest to his face, her fingers sinking into his hair. "Are you okay?"  
  
He nods, and, without saying anything, he captures her lips with his own. She gasps, surprised, and he drinks that noise, kissing it away from her mouth. Her hand sinks into his hair and her fingers tentatively curve around the strands and then she pulls it to urge him closer, and he's moaning on her lips, pushing his hips up a little bit, searching for friction. He's going to die, he thinks, he's going to die like this and he doesn't know if it will be from embarrassment or arousal. Maybe both.  
  
She pulls away a little bit and breathes heavily on his mouth, looking at him. Her pupils are blown and dark and her lips are curved into a small smile and he doesn't know what any of this means and he wants to ask her, but words seem to fail him now. He just looks at her, breathing heavily, staring at her as her chest quickly rises and falls, and he doesn't know what to say. What could he possibly say to convey all that he's feeling right now?  
  
"Rey," he whispers, looking at her like all the answers are written on her face, in the constellation of freckles on her cheeks. She smiles up at him, and her fingers caress his scalp as she press a sweet kiss to the corner of his mouth, and then she attacks his neck again and this time she truly starts sucking a mark on it. He can already feel - with a knowledge that comes from habit, from having spent all his life punching walls - the bruise blooming under her lips, and he moans, gripping her hip.  
  
He's so lost in her that he doesn't even notice when she moves. One second, she's next to him, and the next she's moving, throwing a leg over his and she's straddling him, kissing up and down his neck and moving her hips so slightly against him and there's no way she hasn't noticed it, and he moans, throwing his head back and giving her better access, gripping her hips and following her movements, and - _oh_.  
  
"Oh," Rey murmurs, pulling away from his neck to stare at him. She stops moving her hips, as her eyes go wide and she finally notices the bulge in his jeans. Ben blushes and looks away, feeling mortified.

God, she was just kissing him and he got _hard_. He feels like a teenager (even if he didn't even experience this as a teenager, so it's actually _worse._ ) and he wants to disappear. He didn't even know he wanted this - maybe, eventually. He hasn't exactly thought about this, he didn't think it would ever come up - maybe because he thought she was going to leave him for good before he could even think about _this._

But now, he's completely unprepared for the wave of _want_ crashing on him, as he feels her eyes on him, and her presence above him, and he doesn't know what to do.  
  
Rey seem to notice the shift in his mood, because her hands come to cup his face - and really, they are so small they can barely span across his cheeks, but she does anyway, and gently urges him to look at her. He does, blinking a few times, and she's smiling down at him, her fingers stroking kindly his skin.

"Hey," she says, softly, pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek, nothing like the heated kisses of a few moments before. "Hey, it's okay. You don't have to be ashamed about it".  
  
He makes a strangled sound. "You were just kissing me and I got hard," he says, and really, he's so far gone he doesn't even blush anymore. He's still hard, and she's still straddling him, and he still has his hands on her hips and everything feels new and terrifying, but there's a longing, a new craving that he didn't think he could ever feel. He wants her - and he doesn't just want her smile and laugh and kisses, he wants _her_. This is new. "God, I'm sorry,"  
  
She kisses his cheek again, and giggles against his skin.

"To be honest, that was kind of the point," she murmurs, as her lips trails down until she reaches the corner of his mouth. She pulls away, slightly, to look at him, and he can see she's nervous, underneath it all. Instinctively, he places his hand on the small of her back and trails his fingers up and down her spine, trying to reassure her. It feels different now, somehow. "Was it okay? I'm sorry, I should have asked. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, I'm-".  
  
He shakes his head, and his hand stills again at the small of her back, pulling her close to him. She lets out a little breathy gasp, and he wants to hear that again. He wants to be able to coax every sound out of her, and this thought is new and terrifying.

"It was more than okay. I'm sorry, it's just all very new and-" he takes a deep breath, and then raises his eyes to look at her, blushing. "Promise not to laugh?"  
  
She furrows her brow, and her confused expression is so beautiful and enthralling he actually loses track of what he was saying. "Promise," she replies, quietly, kissing the corner of his mouth. "I wouldn't ever laugh at you, Ben".  
  
Oh, he knows. He's just being stupid about it.  
  
"Well, you know. I've kissed girls before, in college. And boys," he expects a reaction from her, but she just nods and stares at him, her eyes focused on his face. Her fingers still stroke his skin, smoothing it under her touch, and she smiles a little bit, nudging him. "And that's it, really. It ended there. It never went farther, not because I haven't had the chance but because I just didn't want to. I didn't feel like it was a thing I wanted, with anyone".  
  
Her breath hitches on her lips, and he can read her face like an open book, for the first time since they met - there's tenderness and care and love and worry, all merged into one, and he can't bear it all. He doesn't deserve this kind of understanding, but she's there, holding him through his confession anyway. "And now?" she asks, hesitantly. "You want to?"  
  
He nods, finding it difficult to find the right words, if she keeps staring at him like that. "More than anything else in the world," he admits, blushing under her fingers. "I just don't know what to do. It's all new to me and I- I want this, but I don't know how".  
  
She silences him with a kiss, pressing her lips on his and sinking her hand into his hair again. It's a gentler kiss, with no urge, no desperation in it. His hands come to rest on her hips again, but he doesn't feel the need to grip her - he just kisses her, peaceful and quiet, and he can feel the tug of the immense want underneath it, but it's not so big and scary anymore.  
  
"What if we take it slow? Would that be okay?" Rey asks, as she pulls away from his lips. He nods, eagerly, and she smiles at him, moving her hips so slightly. He gasps against her mouth as he searches for her lips again. "Truthfully, I don't have much experience either. We figure it out together. Okay?"  
  
He doesn't deserve this beautiful, understanding girl above him, who moves so slowly and gently, making him writhe underneath her, and when she kisses him, pulling his hair again, he moans and he's not ashamed anymore. His hands find their way underneath the sweater she's wearing, and when his fingertips brush against her naked skin, he marvels at its hotness and softness under his palms.  
  
She gasps again against his mouth, a little breathy sound that has him shivering, and before he realizes she's bringing her hands at the hem of her sweater, pulling it off in one, swift move. Ben doesn't know what to say, and he looks at the way his hands span across her ribcage, so big against her small frame. There are a few scars scattered along her torso, and he traces them with his fingers, marveling at her ease, at the way she doesn't flinch when his fingertips brush against the indented shape right above her hipbone. It looks too deliberate and precise to be an accident, and his heart tightens at the thought.

"Jakku," she explains, briefly, as her eyes search for his, and then she smiles, softly, her hands coming to stroke his face, pulling his mind away from dark thoughts. "It's okay, Ben. It's in the past".

She's something wondrous - terrible and beautiful, and his heart seems on the verge of bursting.  
  
"Is this okay?" she asks, hesitantly, and he nods, staring at her in awe as she brings her hands beneath her back to unhook her bra. She does it so quickly and mechanically he's left surprised, and then she throws it off and looks at him, smiling, a little blush on her face.   
  
Oh God, she's perfect.   
  
"You're perfect," he says, because it's true. She's small and beautiful, and his hand slowly trail up her body, brushing lightly against her skin, leaving goosebumps. He stares at her in fascination, enthralled by every single reaction he pushes out of her, and when his hand finally comes to cup her small breast, she lets out a sigh and her eyes flutter shut. He kneads it tentatively in his hand, and he's rewarded by the small little sound she lets out, maybe guiding him.  
  
She's so beautiful, he thinks, she's so beautiful and she's there, in front of him, arching her back so slightly and moving her hips, lost on him. Ben doesn't really know how this happened or why on earth she's there, smiling down at him, but he's too far gone now to care. He takes her nipple between his fingers, and tugs at it, tentatively, and she moans, canting her hips instinctively.  
  
He smiles and tweaks the little bud again, and again, until her hands come to grip his shoulder, sinking in the fabric of his sweater. Her flush has spread from her cheeks to her chest, and he leans in a little bit to place a kiss on the place where her neck meets her collarbone, slowly trailing down, down, on the soft flesh of her chest, until he reaches the other breast. He leaves a trail of kisses around it, making her arch even more as his other hand rests again at the small of her back, and then he takes her nipple between his lips, kissing it, swirling his tongue around it, hesitantly, and then grazing at it with his teeth.  
  
"Ben," she says, moving her hips, and she's grinding down on him in earnest and he groans against her skin, too lost on her to be embarrassed about it. "Oh, God, Ben." she repeats, as her hands find their way into his hair. She pulls it, urging him close to her, and he almost whimpers - it's amazing and overwhelming how good that feels, and he wants her to do it again and again and again.  
  
He pulls away from her breast only to trail kisses up her neck, and then she's kissing him again, her hands into his hair and her lips almost starved on his, kissing him as if her life depended on it. Her fingers venture down, following his chest, until they reach the hem of his dark sweater, and then she breaks away, staring down at him with a little smile.  
  
"Can I?" she asks, tugging at his sweater, and for a moment he's frozen, thinking about all the things he hides underneath it all, but then she leans in, nibbling gently at his jaw, kissing a bruise at the point where it meets his neck. "It's okay if you don't want to".  
  
Oh, how can she be so kind and understanding and all-around perfect? She has shown him her scars, the place where life has broken her into pieces, and Ben realizes - he can do the same. They are alike, broken and battered and bruised, but somehow their sharp edges and their scars match perfectly, and he's terrified, but he wants to show her all the same.

He smiles up at her, and his hands reach for hers around the hem, and he helps her take the sweater off of him. He stands frozen for a moment, as she takes him in, and he braces himself for the rejection and the horror but -  
  
"You're beautiful." she murmurs, placing a kiss right on his shoulder, where an ugly scar marks his skin, trailing down with her lips to his collarbone. Her hand comes to stroke his chest, and her fingers almost burn his skin, but it's a pleasant sensation, and he never wants to let her go. She curves her hand around his hipbone, where a another wound stands dark against his pale complexion, a sharp dip right above his bones. "God, Ben. You're so beautiful," she says it so sweetly, and his hand reach for her face, urging her to him.

She kisses him again, slowly, kindly and he feels tears sting his eyes as she strokes his chest. No one has ever made him feel beautiful, and his scars make something terrible of him, but she looks at him and places a hand right on his heart and he can believe it, for the first time in his life.   
  
His lips move to her neck, sucking on her skin, and she rocks her hips again as he brings a hand on her leg, hesitantly, and toys with the hem of her skirt. His fingers dip beneath the fabric and grip her thigh, her skin hot and burning against his.

"Rey," he murmurs against her collarbone, and she arches her back, letting out a soft sound that has him surprised. "I want to make you feel good. Can you guide me? Please?" he begs her, and she whimpers so beautifully, moving again her hips. "Please, sweetheart".  
  
" _Oh God_ ," she murmurs, and for a moment Ben thinks she hasn't heard him at all, but then she nods, and her hand comes against his, her fingers curling around his wrist as she guides him in the place between her thighs, so hot it almost burns his skin. He brushes against the fabric of her underwear, and parts his lips, breathing heavily against her skin as he finds it damp, almost soaked. Her fingers tighten their grips around his wrist and she lets out a moan, as he pushes her underwear to a side to stroke her hot center.  
  
"Ben," she whispers so sweetly, so beautifully. She rolls her hips, instinctively searching for his hand, and he raises his eyes to look at her - flushed, eyes closed and lips parted, her brow furrowed in a focused expression, and one hand gripping his shoulder as she moves against him, searching for the friction she needs so desperately. "Please".  
  
She's beautiful. Ben thinks he could fall apart just watching her like that, gone and desperate and utterly lost in him. She's a work of art, like this, and his heart hammers in his chest at the sight. She could tell him anything, ask anything out of him and he'd give it to her without question - he would lay his life down at her feet, if she just asked him to, and he isn't even afraid of the power she holds over him anymore.   
  
He follows her guide, and hesitantly pushes a finger into her, and she is so wet he slides in almost too easily. The sensation clouds up his mind, and then he looks at her face - scrunched up and reddened, and utterly and completely wrecked and he breaks under her and he thinks he's in love.  
  
She sinks her face into his shoulder, breathing heavily, and he brings his other hand into her hair, stroking it, carding his fingers through her wavy strands.

"Are you okay?" he asks, gently, kissing her temple. She nods against him, and then moves her hips against his hand and - oh, oh, _oh_.  
  
" _Please_ ," she says, as he moves his finger, hesitantly. He tries to follow the rhythm of her hips, enthralled by the way she rocks above him, on his hand. He never thought he could want something like this-it has always looked so messy to him, but now she claws at his shoulder, gripping him so tightly it almost hurts, and he wants nothing more than this everyday of his life - Rey, whimpering against his skin, slightly biting his neck, falling apart for him. He doesn't care about anything else, not even his own pleasure, if she makes that sweet little sound again.  
  
When he feels she has adjusted around his finger, he adds another one, and she falls apart. She pants above him, burying her _pleases_ and her _ohs_ against his skin, and when he starts to move his fingers, scissoring them and crooking them, tentatively, she cries out, calling out his name.  
  
"Ben," she says, out of breath, pressing open mouthed kisses to his neck. "Ben, please".  
  
He kisses her temple again. "Tell me, sweetheart," he says, leaving sweet kisses to the side of her face, pushing back the strands of hair that prevent him from looking at her beautiful, lost face, and Rey whimpers, moving her hips against his hand. He crooks his fingers again, and she cries out again so beautifully. "I'll give you everything you need, sweetheart, just tell me. Please, love".  
  
He feel like he's begging her, and she nods against his shoulder again, nipping at his collarbone.

"Touch me, please, Ben," her voice is ragged and broken, and he's amazed at the fact that he's doing this to her.   
  
He understands immediately, and when her hand guides him again, showing him the place where she needs him, he complies immediately. He thumbs her clit, circling it in small movements, and he's rewarded by the sweet, soft sounds she makes, whimpering and moaning so beautifully he probably won't think about anything else for the rest of his life. She clenches around his fingers and the sensation makes him cry out, sending jolts of pleasure down his spine.

She's close, he can understand it by the way her hips stutter. "Rey, love, please, look at me," he murmurs, against her temple, quickening the pace of his movements. "Please, sweetheart, please".  
  
She does. She raises her head from his shoulder, and looks at him in the eyes and she's so wrecked and broken, her face all red and so, so, entrancing and beautiful and he can't look away from her hazel eyes, now almost dark, her pupil blown and big. He presses his thumb down on her clit again, and he crooks his fingers and - _oh_.  
  
She shatters under his gaze, and she trembles and clenches around his fingers and she's so beautiful like this, all out of control and almost feral and he's so in love, in love, in love he can't think about anything else and he feels on the verge of bursting into a million pieces.   
  
He works her through it, and the aftershocks, and then she crashes against him, limp and spent, sinking again her head into his shoulder and breathing heavily against his skin. Even Ben is trying to recover from it, and he can feel his chest rising and falling so quickly he can't even keep count of the breaths anymore. He removes his fingers from her and she moans, softly, and he chuckles, placing a kiss on the top of her head.  
  
"Are you okay?" he asks, after a while, and he can hear her laugh, the sound muffled by his own skin. His arm comes to encircle her waist, pulling her close to him, and she hums, happily.  
  
"More than okay," she replies, and then she starts kissing his neck again, sweetly this time. She's content and spent, and when she pulls away to look him in the eyes, she almost glows. Her hair is stuck to her face and forehead, and she's sweaty and messy, but Ben thinks he has never seen something so beautiful. "Can I?" she says, as her hand travels down his chest and reaches for the button of his jeans.   
  
Obviously, he's still hard. Seeing her like this, all parted lips and flushed cheeks has done all but worsen his situation, but he's not as embarrassed anymore. He still blushes, though, because, after all, he is an awkward virgin. "You don't have to," he murmurs, searching her face, but she tilts her head and smiles at him, sweetly.  
  
"I know, but I want to. You deserve to feel good," she replies, so simply, as if it was something that happened everyday. Ben's heart is into utter chaos and he realizes he's holding his breath only when her other hand comes to stroke his face. "Only if you want, though. I don't want to pressure you".  
  
"Yes, yes, please," he says, so quickly he must look ridiculous, but he doesn't care at all, because Rey is smiling down at him so happily and sweetly he can't see anything else but her. Her hands are on his jeans again, unbuttoning them, and then he raises his hips off the couch to help her pull them down, followed by his boxers.  
  
He knows he's trembling, but Rey places a kiss at the corner of his mouth, making him relax under her gentle touch. "Show me how," she tells him, and then she tentatively curves her hand around his shaft and he thinks he's gone forever.  
  
She moves her hand, hesitantly, and he guides her, his fingers around her wrist to help her setting up a slow, gentle pace that has him writhing under her, whispering her name over and over again. Her hand is hot and gentle and she kisses his face as she moves, smiling down at him, and he feels like something is exploding right beneath his skin, a fire burning in his veins.  
  
"You're so beautiful, Ben, you have no idea," she murmurs against his skin, peppering his face with butterfly kisses. He whimpers, and she quickens her pace a little bit, making him buck into her hand. "Yes, you're beautiful and perfect, and I like you so much, Ben, my heart feels on the verging of collapsing every time I look at you".  
  
He can feel the tears at the corner of his eyes, and he doesn't know why is he even crying, but Rey smiles and wipes them away with her lips, gently, as she moves her hand around him. "You're so amazing, yes, that's it" she tells him, sweetly, kissing his jaw, his neck, the corner of his mouth, as he rocks his hips against her hand.  
  
"Rey, I'm-" he tries to say. Between her hand on him and her sweet words, he know he's not going to last long, but she shushes him, drinking all his moans and cries with her lips.  
  
"It's okay," she says, and her hand almost stills around him, and he whines, throwing his head back and giving her access to his throat. She works up a bruise on the underside of his jaw, as she resumes her movements, quicker this time. "It's okay, Ben. You can let go now. For me, please?"  
  
He does.  
  
He explodes in a million pieces right beneath her and she kisses his face thought it all, holding him close and whispering sweet nothings right into his ear. That's how it goes - he falls apart with kind words etched in his skin, and her small, gentle hands holding him to her, and he knows it for sure he's in love with this girl who kisses him and looks at him like he's a sky full of stars.  
  
Afterwards, Rey brings a towel to wipe him clean and fix the mess he has made, and she smiles so brightly he isn't even embarrassed by it. He feels spent and content and quiet and he's probably grinning, which is really uncharacteristic but he doesn't care.  
  
"Was that your plan all along?" he asks her, as she sits beside him again. They're still half naked and messy, but she stares at him like he's the most beautiful thing in the whole world, and he doesn't think he deserves it at all, but it doesn't matter anymore. "To lure me here so you could seduce me?"  
  
She laughs, and then she leans in to kiss him, briefly, between giggles.

"Yes, that was exactly my plan" she says, and then she brushes her hand on his chest, following the lines of white, thin scars on his arm. He doesn't feel so scared anymore, but it's still weird to see her like that. She isn't running away or looking at him with sad eyes or telling him he's sick - and Ben doesn't really understand her, but maybe now it doesn't matter. He's happy and spent and he wants nothing more than Rey, curled against him, pressing kisses against his skin and grounding him to her.  
  
Rey presses her lips together and then, the corners of her mouth lift up as she locks eyes with him again. "Stay here tonight? We can take a shower and curl in bed and-"  
  
"Yes," he says, eagerly, and she laughs, throwing her head back as usual. He seizes the moment to place a kiss right on her pulse point, and he can hear her sigh.  
  
They end up taking a shower, separately because he's not sure he can keep his hands off her now that he has seen her like this, and then they lie in her bed - Rey wearing her shorts and a thin t-shirt, him with only his boxers on because she doesn't have any clothes that fit him -, with Rey curled around his back, her face pressed between his shoulder blades and her arm around his chest, her hand resting right on his heart. Their legs are tangled beneath the sheets and it all feels quiet and nice.  
  
"You're too small to be the big spoon," Ben tells her, laughing, and she snorts. Her only answer is a tightening of her grip on him, and he laughs again, bringing a hand on hers and intertwining their fingers. They fall asleep like this, and if he has nightmares, he can't really remember them at all.

 

*

 

Rey is trafficking with the ink and the new, sterilized needles, with her back turned on him, so she can't really see him as he raises the sleeve of his sweater and exposes the scars he has been hiding underneath it for more than ten years, and he wants to disappear for a moment, before he remembers the way her fingers had brushed against those thin, white lines on his skin just a few nights ago, no disgust or fear or pity in her eyes, but only kindness.

It hadn't been like that last time - it hadn't been like that with Luke, looking down on him in horror as the doctor sew him anew, but, he supposes, circumstances were different, and Luke had tried, in the end. He's still trying, for all that matters, and Ben can't really understand why.

Rey seems to read into his silence, as she slowly makes her way to the chair in which he's sitting. Her hair is tied up in a bun, and her sleeves are rolled up, and there's a kind, understanding smile on the curve of her lips, and for a moment, Ben forgets everything else. "Are you nervous?" she asks, tilting her head a little bit, as she does when she's curious, even if she doesn't admit it.

Ben tries to smile, hesitantly. "A little, yeah," he replies, because it seems easier than tell her the whole truth.

How could he ever explain her he's not nervous about the pain, but about the idea of enjoying it? He had asked her about this tattoo a lifetime ago, and he hadn't even thought he could get this far, and now she's right in front of him, with trust in her eyes and kindness in her smile, and he's so terrified of disappointing her, of showing her who he really is. She has seen his bruised hand, and his broken sobs, and she has traced patterns along his hand, reassuring him it was okay, drawing figures against his scars, but - he's still terrified.

What if she hates it? What if she doesn't want to be with him anymore? He couldn't really blame her, she would be right - but he would be devastated, and maybe that's it, maybe that's the truth he's been avoiding for all these months: he's selfish. He knows he doesn't deserve this, he doesn't deserve her, but he lingers on her presence like a starved man, and he can't give this up, no matter how much he knows she deserves better.

But Rey - wonderful, amazing Rey - understands him. He can pinpoint the exact moment the thought blooms into consciousness in her mind, because she drops ink and needles on the table beside her, and she gives him a tender smile, as her hand slowly makes its way on his arm. Her touch is warm and comforting, and Ben stares at her fingers as they gracefully dance from one scar to another.

In the past, he had thought they would disappear, eventually, as the bruises on his knuckles used to - but then he had quickly realized that the red just faded into a white line, still visible on his pale skin, and he could never get rid of it. It would be always there to remind him of who he was.

"You don't have to be ashamed of it," Rey murmurs, as her fingertips draw pattern along his scar, as if she wanted to tattoo her design only with her fingers and her devotion. Ben feels so fragile under her touch that a harder pressure could break him into pieces. "They're a part of you. I'm not going to judge you for this".

He shakes his head, still trying to wrap his mind around the thought. He has always imagined this thing - this relationship, this _love_ \- had an expiration date, and from the start he has tried to brace himself for the moment Rey would realize he's something nothing can fix, but instead, she's there, staring at him with a little smile, trying to reassure him. He can't really understand it, but oh, how he longs for the kindness she's showing him.

"I don't want to see them anymore," he replies, quietly, staring down at his scars. Rey's fingers are splayed on his arm, hiding everything from his eyes, but he knows the scars by heart, and he can see them, even as she protects him from it. "I was so scared. So full of rage, of pain, of hatred. That's not who I wanna be anymore. That's not what I want to see," he raises his eyes to meet hers, and Rey is smiling, encouragingly, her eyes full of adoration. What has he done, to make her look at him this way? He can't really phantom it, but he aches for it. It feels like a balm on all his wounds, and he knows love can't fix everything, can't erase the past, can't change what has happened in his life, but it makes everything softer for a minute, and maybe that's what he needs right now.

"Well," she says, tilting her head again to better look at him, her eyes shining even in the static light of her studio. "Good thing then you're in a tattoo studio".

At that, Ben finally laughs, and when Rey starts to work, he's not afraid anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whispers* you'll have to pry awkward virgin demisexual ben solo from my dying hands and even then i won't give up
> 
> ps: i recently brought back to life my old [tumblr](http://kylorensx.tumblr.com/) so come say hi if you want to!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Don't do this to yourself," she tells him, dragging her lips along his skin. His cheek is hot, and wet, and he grips the fabric of her top almost desperately. "It's not your fault if something terrible happened. You don't deserve to do this to yourself, Ben".
> 
> He snorts, against her skin. It feels empty, and sad, and Rey's heart almost breaks. "That's because you only know the good part of it," he says into her collarbone, his lips burning hot against her skin, where her top leaves it uncovered. 
> 
> She pulls away just slightly, and places her hand under his chin, urging him to look at her. She knows he's stronger than her, and she can't really move him at all, but she tries to lift his head and he follows her movements, silently. "Then tell me the bad part," she tells him, as serious as ever. His eyes stare at her like she's something extraordinary and terrifying, and she strokes his jaw, as she smiles, gently. "I'm here".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is probably the longest chapter i've ever written, but i didn't feel like cutting it in two or leaving out something, so - yeah, here are your 12k of pain and angst and slight fluff. the next chapter is going to be a little heavy, i'm sorry, but i promise it's going to be alright!

Despite her reassuring words and sweet touches, and despite his own best efforts, Ben is tense for the whole time Rey spends working on his arm, even if he tries to smile through it. It's quite a sight, and she can't help but smile too everytime she catches his gaze - he looks hesitant and terrified, but he's _smiling_ and he's _trying_ , and Rey doesn't know if he's doing this for her or for himself, but in the end, she supposes, it doesn't matter.

He is trying. That should be enough for now.

Nevertheless, despite everything, it's with a relieved sigh, a few hours later, that Ben takes in the fact that she has finished working at it. The tattoo stands dark against his pale skin, and it covers his whole arm, successfully hiding the scars he seemed so afraid of and turning his arm into a canvas.

It looks - _good_. Rey has always been confident of her work, sometimes even too cocky and self-assured, she knows it - but she had to, in a way. She had to believe her work was worth something, she had to believe it was special, she had to believe it all had a meaning, otherwise she wouldn't have survived the hell that her past had been. When Ben came into the picture, she had felt insecure and nervous for the first time in years, afraid of messing it up, afraid of disappointing him, afraid of seeing him with his back turned on her, too, because, despite her better judgment, she cared about him and the thought alone scared her to death. She was giving him the power to hurt her.

But right now, seeing her work etched on Ben's skin, following the lines of his veins and twisting and turning and snaking across his arm, she realizes it is good.

Somehow, it makes sense - it makes sense that she has spent her whole life drawing patterns and designs, only to end up here, in a room in her studio, covering his scars with flowers and stars, turning his pain into something new, into something different. Into something he can look at without his heart shattering into pieces.

"It looks good," she tells him, raising his eyes and giving him a small smile, and she expects him to be staring at the fresh tattoo on his arm, maybe curious or fascinated, but instead, Ben is looking at her.

There's so much fondness and devotion in the back of his eyes that Rey is left gaping, and she doesn't know what to say to that - she doesn't even know if he realizes how open he is in front of her now, how easily emotions slip past his walls when he stares at her, and how much she can read in the deep brown of his eyes. She's reminded of a few nights before, when he had looked up at her with glittering eyes on her couch, as if she was something special, a privilege he had been granted, and she blushes under his gaze.

"Thank you," he says, in the end, giving her a small, warm smile. She can feel the exhaustion radiating from him - he's been so tense for the whole time, despite everything, and he must be dead tired now -, but looks at her, and takes his time to _thank her_ , as if she had done something incredible for him, and Rey wants to cry, because no one in her life has made her feel so wanted and cared for and so, so special. "Really, it's beautiful. Thank you".

She shakes her head to keep the tears at bay. "Shut up," she murmurs, and then she focuses on the tattoo again."I'll wrap it and I'll give you instruction to take care of it for the next few days, and then you're free to go. You must be tired".

He hums, leaning back on the chair and closing his eyes, almost limp, as if all the tension had just disappeared from his body, leaving him exhausted and spent. "Yeah," he replies, as she starts to apply the ointment on the tattoo, careful not to hurt him. He seems so relaxed now, so utterly content and peaceful, and she wants to see him like this every minute of every day. He deserves this kind of peace. "Sorry I was so tense. It's just-"

He seems to struggle to find the right words, so she finishes wrapping his arm in a bandage with swift movements, and then she's at his side, brushing a few strands of hair out of his face and stroking his skin. "You don't have to apologize," she tells him, sweetly, as her thumb traces his moles and his beauty marks like stars in a constellation.

He opens his eyes again to look at her, and he seems surprised - there's a little blush on his cheeks when he realizes how closer she is now and Rey's heart clenches, because, really, how can this man be real? How can he kiss her senseless and make her writhe and _beg_ him, and then blush like this just because she's next to him even if they've been dating for a month?

Ben makes a humming sound, as adorable as ever, and leans into her touch, almost unconsciously. There's a brief pause, before he talks, but Rey can see him gulp and take a deep breath, almost as if he was trying to steel himself for everything that could happen. Almost as if he was putting on an armor. "Why are you so kind to me? Why aren't you running away?"

_Oh_. Rey is taken aback for a minute, and she stares at him - wide eyed, trembling lips and a fear so big that makes everything else pale in comparison -, still cupping his face in her hand, still stroking his skin, making him realize he's not alone. He looks so fragile, right now, and so utterly scared, and she wants to wrap her arms around him and tell him everything, but she doesn't even know what to tell him. Her feelings are a complicated mess and she can't find the right words to untangle them.

"Because I like you, Ben" she says, in the end, turning his face into her direction to look him in the eyes. She gives him a small smile, as her thumb still draws circles on his cheekbone, trying to reassure him. "No matter what you've gone through, it doesn't change how I feel about you".

Ben looks back at her and she can read on his face how desperately he wants to believe that, and how his own mind makes it difficult, twisting every word and making him doubt of every good thing. She knows he's about to utter a protest, so she doesn't let him, and she presses her lips on his forehead, leaving a trail of light kisses against his skin. He's tense, but the moment her lips start to trail down Rey can feel him relax again, slumping against the chair and closing his eyes, his eyelashes brushing against her cheeks.

"You know," she murmurs, pulling away from him and letting her hand find its way into his hair, wrapping her fingers around the soft strands. He hums, approvingly, melting into her touch. "I really like you".

He lets out a little self-deprecating laugh. "You say that far too often".

"Because it's true, you idiot," she replies, but she chuckles and presses another kiss to his forehead. She can hear Ben hum again as she caresses his scalp with her fingertips, and he's so soft and pliant under her touch Rey can't help but smile and shower his face in kisses. She knows she's being overly affectionate and probably clingy, but the way he melts into her makes her heart clench, and she takes advantage of this moment to kiss his cheek. "Come on, let's get you out of here or Luke will think I have kidnapped you".

Ben whines as she pulls away, blushing furiously as he realizes it, and almost flings himself out of the chair, running a hand through his hair, awkwardly. Rey can't help but smile at him, and then she guides him back in the main room.

"Thank you," Ben murmurs again, as he heads to the door, hands shoved in the pocket of his dark jeans. He looks so nice there, in the room she has spent so many years in, and she wants to see him every day - in her studio, in her apartment, in every inch of her life. It should scare her - and it does, to a certain degree - but he smiles, awkwardly, and it feels all so simple and normal, and that's what she has been waiting for all her life. A place to return to. Someone to hold tight. A belonging.

She cups his face again in her hands, lowering him so she can press another kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Stop thanking me," she tells him, and then she pulls him into a kiss, sinking her hand into his hair. Ben gasps on her mouth, but he's quick - it feels like he's getting used to it, like he's learning her and how to act around her, and he brings his arms around her in a heartbeat, resting his hands at the small of her back.

Rey hums, contentedly, and bites down on his bottom lip, making him shiver in her arms, but before she can do anything about it (she has very, very interesting ideas about it, ever since a few nights before, and she can't shake the thought off her mind), she is startled by a laugh.

_Not again_ , she thinks, pulling away from Ben, but her wishes are not granted, and Poe is standing in the doorway, staring at the two of them with eyebrow raised and a smirk on his face. She can feel Ben blush even if she's not looking at him, and, before anyone can say anything, he surprises her, and hides his face in the crook of her neck, groaning.

"Why does this keep happening?"

*

Ben groans when she wiggles in his arms to sit upright, and his hand comes almost automatically to rest on her stomach, long fingers curving around her hip, with an ease that probably comes from his sleepiness.

She chuckles, lightly. "What time is it?" she asks, trying to sit on the bed, but he pushes down, his arm coming to encircle her waist again and pulling her close to him. She doesn't complain, and her eyes flutter shut almost automatically as her back brushes against his chest.  
  
"It's _it's Sunday and you should go back to_ _sleep_ o'clock" Ben replies, groggily, pressing a kiss into her shoulder and then resting his head against her back, humming softly under his breath as she leans into him. Rey chuckles again, and she moves a little bit so she can kiss the arm that is grounding her into him, fingers following the lines of the tattoo she has drawn on his skin.  
  
Ben hums again.  
  
She has learned a lot about Ben in these weeks. For example, Ben is a cuddler. He can deny it all he wants, and be awkward and uneasy with physical closeness in public, almost shy about it, but then he curves his body around hers in the sweetest way, and he presses small kisses on her neck every time she wakes up in the morning, and his hands gently rub her skin, smoothing it under his touch, and he doesn't let her get up for a least ten minutes, whining as soon as she leaves the bed. Sleepy Ben clings to her, tangling their legs and anchoring her to his chest as he lavishes every inch of her body he can reach with sweet, feather-like kisses, and Rey secretly loves it, even if he makes her run late more often than not. She forgives him every time, and not only because he drives her to work. It's unsual, feeling so loved, and most of the times it just feels like a dream, like something too good to be true, but when they're like this - sleepy and soft, as if the world around them had not yet come into focus - it feels easier.  
  
She quietly rolls over in his arm, so she can face him and he whines a little bit at the loss of contact. Rey is almost amazed by him - by how touch-starved he is, when he's sleepy and vulnerable and utterly human, in her bed. He carries himself around like he's something terrible, almost a monster, but then he turns needy and soft beside her, and she likes him so much she suspects she's starting to fall for him.  
  
"Rey," he murmurs, his arm still around her waist, and she slides closer, pressing a sweet kiss to his collarbone. He hums again, his eyes still shut. He's quite a sight like this - half naked, hair stuck to his face, his chest rising and falling so rhythmically, full lips curved in a sort of smile and a little lovebite at the point where his jaw meets his neck, and Rey's heart does a jump every time, still unconvinced that this is really happening. "Go back to sleep," he adds, and it sounds almost like a groan.  
  
She leans in again, trailing kisses up his neck, and, instinctively, he pulls her closer, his arm coming to wrap around her small frame. "Don't try to seduce me, I was sleeping," he groans again, as her lips come to rest on his pulse point, and his grip on her tightens.   
  
She giggles and pulls away with a last kiss right on the underside of his jaw, and he sighs, as his eyes flutter open, blinking a few times in the process.

"Sorry," Rey says, with an apologetic smile, even if she doesn't feel sorry at all. "It's very hard to resist you".  
  
He laughs, as his hand comes to rest on her hip and he pulls her closer, tracing small, circular patterns over the fabric of her top. It feels so nice Rey can't quite believe this is not a dream.

"Yeah, sure," he murmurs, leaning in to place a kiss on her forehead. He says that with a little self-deprecating smile, and Rey looks at him, bringing her hand to his arm, following the lines of his muscles.  
  
He is beautiful. He probably can't believe it, can't even see it, but he is. The scars on his body are nothing compared to the beauty of his features and the way his chest rises and falls. Her hand travels further down, exploring fingers brushing against his skin - his ample chest, his taut stomach, his hipbone and his navel. It's not something sexual - she's just stroking his skin because she can and she's high on the sensation, and she wants nothing more than that. She can hear the sharp intake of his breath and she laughs, quietly, looking up again.   
  
"Well, you're in my bed and half naked and disheveled, so yes," she says, throwing one of her legs around his waist, to pull him closer. He gasps and she smiles up at him. "You're very hard to resist to".  
  
He doesn't protest anymore - he just looks down at her, with a little, fragile smile on his lips. Rey can't help but kiss it, to know what it tastes like under her lips.   
  
Her hand finds its way to his face, again, and into his hair, threading through it with the utmost care. Oh, how she loves the sensation of the strands running through her fingers, and how she loves the little sounds he makes every time she pulls them, making him stutter on his words. This time, she doesn't, though - she limits herself to card her fingers through his hair, and caress his scalp with her nails. He sighs on her mouth, as he breaks away, and she smiles up at him, gently. Her heart pounds in her chest, and when his hand trail up and down her spine, in a reassuring gesture, she feels on the verge of bursting in a million pieces.  
  
"Good morning," she says, and Ben snorts, sinking his head into her neck and stifling a laugh against her skin. It feels very nice, and she wraps her arm around his torso, pulling him into her, her leg still swung over his waist.   
  
"You little devil," he says, but he's laughing, and pressing open mouthed kiss to the column of her throat, and she laughs too, trembling under his body.

It's all so new and beautiful - Ben, exploring her skin with a fierce determination, pressing kisses and gently biting down of every inch of her, savoring the sensation. He's still hesitant and scared, and he looks lost, sometimes, when she begs him, but she guides his hands and he lets her, calling her _love_ and _sweetheart_ and loving every part of her body with his hands and lips and hungry eyes. Rey didn't even know that was a thing for her, until he had begged her, so sweetly, so beautifully, to make her feel good, and - oh, nothing could ever compare to that sensation, Ben writhing under her and calling her love, pushing a finger inside her tentatively, so careful and kind, so Ben, it hurts even to remember.  
  
Nothing ever made her feel the way Ben did, and she wants nothing more than that - losing herself in him, and never coming back.  
  
He presses her into the mattress, gently, his hand slowly trailing down from her hip to her thigh, fingertips brushing against her bare skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. His mouth leaves sweet, light kisses on the column of her throat as she throws her head back, letting him explore her skin as he wishes, and she sighs. She loves him like this - lazy and calm and peaceful, his hands roaming along her body, his mouth tasting her skin, his body pressed close against hers. It feels like he's taking his time learning her, mapping her with his fingertips, studying every inch of her skin.  
  
He trails kisses down to her collarbone, and then his hand reaches the waistband of her shorts, fingers playing with it, as he raises his gaze, searching for hers.   
  
His eyes are full of wonder when she nods, smiling up at him and parting her legs just slightly, as her hand find its way into his hair, stroking it so gently, so calmly. His fingers slip easily beneath her shorts. She watches his hand disappear beneath the fabric, following the line of the tattoo with her eyes, and he presses a kiss right to her shoulder as he strokes her center right above her underwear.  
  
She moans, softly, keeping her eyes on him. She loves everything about it - the intimacy of all of it, the feelings and the sensation of his fingers against her, the way her body responds to him in a way she never imagined or felt before -, but what she loves the most is watching him, as he pushes her underwear to the side and slides a finger into her. She grips his shoulder, lightly, as she rolls her hips, and he stares at her with awe in his eyes, enraptured by her every movement, as if she was something wondrous and entrancing.   
  
Her blunt nails dig into his skin as he starts to move his finger, so slowly, so gently - it all feels so sleepy and peaceful, as he lazily drags his mouth down to her neck, pressing kisses, whispering sweet nothings. Oh, how she loves the beauty of all of it - the morning rolls around, timid rays of sun shining down on his face as he stares intently at her, watching every reaction, paying attention to every little gasp, and it all feels so normal and quiet.   
  
She cants her hips, following the movements of his finger inside her, and Ben understands her immediately. He slides another finger, always so slowly, making her gasp again as he slightly crooks them. His lips trail up to kiss her cheek, his lashes brushing against her skin in the most intimate way, and Rey can't help but moan, as he presses his fingers right against that spot that makes her writhe.  
  
He's still hesitant and unsure, but he smiles when she lets out small, wrecked sounds, guiding him, and Rey likes him so much like that - eager eyes and a crooked smile, watching her so intently, as if she was something remarkable and extraordinary.  
  
It does not take long for her to stutter in her movements and realize she's close. Her eyes flutter shut as he pumps his fingers a little bit faster, and she lets out small breathy gasps, as his lips press open-mouthed kiss to her shoulder, building her up.   
  
"Ben," she says, panting, trying to open her eyes to stare at him. His gaze is fascinated and surprised, and he crooks again his fingers, making her shiver and plant her nails into his skin. He kisses her shoulder again, smiling. "Please, touch me".  
  
He does, yielding as always. He lowers her underwear with his thumb, making her laugh as he furrows his brow in concentration, and then he's thumbing her clit, drawing small, slow circles and sucking the air right out of her lungs. Rey closes her eyes again, and cants her hips toward his hand, her mind reduced to a series of incoherent moans.  
  
"Rey, sweetheart," he whispers, his voice deep and low, making her whimper. "Please, look at me. Please".  
  
He always asks that, and Rey fights her clouded mind to open her eyes, her lashes trembling slightly as he comes into focus. Ben is staring at her, his eyes so deep and warm and full of adoration, and then his thumb flicks quickly against her clit and she's coming, her fingers digging into his shoulder and his name on her lips.  
  
He lightly kisses her skin as she recovers, removing his fingers, and Rey stares down at him, surprised by this quiet, vulnerable, impossible man resting his head on her shoulder and lavishing her in kisses. Her adoration for him feels like a living thing, enveloping them.

Her breath comes in quick waves, and her eyes flutter shut almost of their own accord, as she lets Ben press sweet kisses to her skin. "I'll be with you in a moment," she whispers, trying to recover, and she can feel him laugh against her shoulder, his lips curved against her skin. It feels intimate, somehow. Even more than everything that has happened. "I'll make up to you, I swear".

He kisses again her shoulder, tenderly. "You don't have to worry about that," he replies. His arm rests across her waist, pulling her close to his warm body, and she can feel him straining against her hip, but he makes no move to rush her, and Rey can't really understand it. No one had been so intent on making her just feel _good_. She has never felt so wanted and cared for in all her life, and her mind spins furiously, trying to grasp the idea of it, but it feels so foreign to her. "I love seeing you like this".

His confession hangs in the air for a minute, and it's met with silence, and a shiver. Rey brings her hand into his hair, carding her finger through those strands, not quite sure about what to say. Neither of them had spoken the word _love_ out loud until now, and it feels - terrifying. She doesn't know how to love, and she doesn't know how to be loved either, and that's the truth behind this - she's damaged, and maybe this is all a risk. Maybe she's putting herself in danger, maybe she's putting Ben in danger.

But he seems to understand her, because he presses another kiss to her shoulder, before raising his eyes for a moment and smile down at her, tender and soft and gentle. Maybe this is a risk, she thinks, but he's smiling and there's no frown on his face and she's happy, and maybe it is worth it, after all.

"I mean, I like making you feel good. I don't expect anything out of it," he says, and he's blushing furiously, despite the fact that he had been fucking her with his fingers up until a moment ago. He's so awkward about it, and Rey can feel her heart tighten in her chest, and she can't help herself- her fingers tug at his hair and bring him down, and she kisses him, sweet and tender. Ben lets out a little gasp against her mouth, but he melts against her, soft and pliant as always. She likes it, she likes all too much.

"Still," she murmurs, when he pulls away. He rests again his head upon her shoulder, as if it was his favorite place in the world, and she plays with his hair again, wrapping it around her fingers. "I like making you feel good too".

He nuzzles her neck, and she can feel the way his cheek burn against her skin. The tip of his ears have reddened too, and she brushes her fingers against it, unable to stay away from it, making Ben shiver. "Maybe next time".  
  
"Okay, baby," she replies, and he makes a little humming sound, content with the endearment. She kisses his forehead, and her hand trails from his hair to his shoulder and arm, following the lines of his muscles, marveling at the firmness beneath her fingertips. "You have very nice arms," she tells him, her mind still hazy, and he laughs, his body shaking against hers. "Hey, it's true. I thought about it when we first met".  
  
"You thought what?"  
  
He sounds surprised and he pulls away from her shoulder to study her face, with a confused expression on his face, as if he could not understand her. Her hand lingers on his arm, still, fingers tracing patterns over his pale skin.  
  
"What? You looked nice," she says, smiling at him, remembering the way she had eyed him that first day, so long ago. Ben still looks surprised. "Crossed and a little bit intimidating, but nice".  
  
Her fingers climb up his arm again, reaching his shoulder - the place where an irregular scar marks his skin. Her fingertips brush against it, lightly, and he looks down at her with such an intensity it should be burning and painful, but instead, it's just Ben. She doesn't know how to describe it, except for _Ben_.  
  
There's a brief silence, and he just stares at her as she traces patterns over his scar, too.  
  
"Doesn't this put you off?" he asks, and it feels like something he has been dreading for a long time, because his voice is faint and fearful, and he sounds just like a kid. She remembers him, in the studio, asking her why she was being so kind, as if he expected her to run away or reject him. "Aren't you scared or disgusted or-"  
  
"No," she replies, gently. She covers the scar with the palm of her hand, making it disappear beneath it, and with her fingers rubs his shoulder, slowly, almost to reassure him.

No matter how many things she learns about him, he always seems like a startled, wild animal she's trying to understand. She tries to be kind, and not to move too quickly, but sometimes he looks like he's about to run away in fear.

"It's okay, Ben. I'm okay with it. I'm not going to leave you," she says, and her words seems to soothe him, because the tension leaves the place between his shoulder blades, and she can feel him exhale and relax. "You have seen my scars too. It's okay".   
  
Her fingers trail down, from his shoulder to his forearm, where the simpler, white lines that mark his skin are covered by her tattoo. She traces the lines of the constellation intertwining on his wrist, almost trying to rewrite those scars - invisible now, hidden by the blooming of inky daisies, but quite impossible to forget - pouring all the love she feels in that touch. He sighs, and they are so close she can feel him blink, and close his eyes for a second, his lashes brushing against her cheek. It feels almost like he's preparing for battle, and she traces the shape of the flowers on his arm, as if to calm him.   
  
"When Luke called to tell me about my father, I- I went off," he says, opening his eyes again and staring down at her with a sort of apologetic smile. _I didn't want to trouble you with this,_ he almost seems to say, and Rey tightens her grip on him, because she doesn't know how else to tell him that she wants to be troubled - she wants him to lean on her, and tell her everything, and trust her, because she's not going to run away, she's not going to leave him. "I destroyed a glass wall in my house and, well. The shards," he nods in the direction of his shoulder, where the indented scar stands pinkish and menacing. Another scar against his hipbone, and one on his chest. A constellation of marks that speaks of pain. "Luke found me. There was a lot of blood and I was unconscious. I don't remember much, honestly. Just his face," he closes his eyes at the thought, almost as if the scene was painted behind his eyelids. "I know he brought me to the hospital, but they couldn't do much for the scars. Not that I cared" he adds, shrugging a little bit.  
  
She caresses his skin, again, because that's the only thing she can do right now. Her heart seems a fragile little thing in her chest, and when she speaks, her voice is small and broken. She wants to be strong for him, but the way he looks right now - so torn, so pained, so broken - shatters her resolution into pieces, and she just wants to hold him and make him forget everything for a moment. "Why would you do that to yourself, Ben?" she asks, stroking him, and she wants to understand him, to wrap herself around him and his mind, and never let him go again. She wants to protect him from his own mind, and erase the pain of the past, but there are things not even her determination can do, no matter how hard she tries.  
  
There's a moment of silence, again, before he speaks.  
  
"Because it was my fault," he says, and his voice is broken and lost and it feels like it's something he has been keeping on the inside for so long, always on the verge of breaking apart, of cracking open because of it. It feels like a secret that has found its way into his heart - a poison into his bloodstream, a poison he's trying to finally get rid of. "It was my fault my father died. I deserved it".  
  
There's silence, again. Rey looks at him, and she can't even phantom it - how could he think something like that, and how can she even soothe him. It feels - so much bigger. She's unprepared for it, and she doesn't know what to do. She places her hand on his face, stroking his cheekbone with her thumb, and he looks at her with terrified eyes, as if he couldn't believe the word he has uttered. His hand comes to grip her hip almost too forcefully, as if he's afraid of seeing her disappear into thin air.   
  
"Ben," she says, staring at him. His eyes are burning and intense, cutting as usual, and it feels like they're burning the soul out of her. It reminds her of that first days of their friendship, months and months ago, when he had looked at her with the same intensity in his dark eyes, on the verge of breaking down. He hadn't been like that in a while, Rey thinks, and now her heart aches because she wants to find a solution, but what solution can you find in times like these? "Ben, how can you say that?"  
  
He smiles, but it's empty and sad and broken, a kind of smile that reminds her of him, the first time she saw him in her studio - a broken, empty shell of a man who stomped his way through life.

"Because it's true. He was coming to pick me up. We hadn't spoken in more than ten years and the last time we did, I-" his words trail off, and he sighs, before speaking again. It almost feels like he's trying to be calm about it, but something from inside is tearing down the wall he has made of his heart, and Rey wants to reassure him, and tell him it's alright, he doesn't have to fight this anymore, he's safe now, but she doesn't know how - he feels so far away and unreachable, lost in his own mind. "He was still coming to pick me up, because he knew I was miserable and I hadn't the strength to come back home on my own. He- he had a car accident on the way and-"  
  
The next words are choked off by a sob, and he shivers, trying to keep it inside. His eyes are glistening, and he looks away from her, holding her hip so tightly it must be bruising now. She strokes his skin, and then she presses a kiss on his cheek, leaning in a little bit. He shivers again, and it breaks her heart, because it reminds her of herself, soldiering on through the pain, keeping herself together because she had to.

"Don't fight it, Ben" she tells him, carding her fingers through his hair with slow, rhythmic movements. "It's okay".

And, with that, he breaks.

He sinks his head right into her shoulder, and his arm swings around her waist, and he clings to her, holding her tightly and pulling her small body into his. She does the same, curving her body against his to let him bury himself there, and she keeps stroking his hair as he sobs, shoulders trembling under her hand. He falls apart, and it reminds her of a night in a snow-covered park, but it feels different now - he's a broken, sobbing mess into her shoulder, and she holds him thought it, leaving small kisses to his temple, trailing her fingers down his back, into his hair, trying her best to soothe him.  
  
"It's not your fault," she whispers against his temple, lips tracing little patterns against his skin. He inhales, and then he sobs again into her, his body broken against hers. She doesn't let him go, and wraps herself around him, reminding him he's not alone. Not right now, and not ever again, if he doesn't want to be. "Ben, it's not your fault. Nobody could have predicted that. It's not your fault".  
  
This makes him sob harder, for a while, and she doesn't say anything - she just keeps on stroking his hair, kissing his temple, his cheek, trying to share her warmth with him. Then, after a few minutes that feel like hours, his sobs subside, and he breathes heavily against her skin, and his body relaxes under the gentle pressure of her hands, as if breaking down like that had left him spent and tired.   
  
"I couldn't come home after that," he confesses, right on her collarbone, his voice muffled by her skin. He clings to her, almost desperately, and she holds him, hoping her presence could be something soothing for him, for a time. "I just couldn't face my mother after everything I did to her. But I couldn't stay there either, not when my father died for it. Luke came to see me, and-" he shivers again, and out of instinct, her fingers brush against the scar on his shoulder, stroking it gently. "After everything, he told me he needed a hand with his shop, if I wanted to. I didn't deserve it, but I went anyway."  
  
She kisses his temple again, bringing her fingers into his hair again, stroking his scalp.

"Don't do this to yourself," she tells him, dragging her lips along his skin. His cheek is hot, and wet, and he grips the fabric of her top almost desperately. "It's not your fault if something terrible happened. You don't deserve to do this to yourself, Ben".  
  
He snorts, against her skin. It feels empty, and sad, and Rey's heart almost breaks. "That's because you only know the good part of it," he says into her collarbone, his lips burning hot against her skin, where her top leaves it uncovered.   
  
She pulls away just slightly, and places her hand under his chin, urging him to look at her. She knows he's stronger than her, and she can't really move him at all, but she tries to lift his head and he follows her movements, silently. "Then tell me the bad part," she tells him, as serious as ever. His eyes stare at her like she's something extraordinary and terrifying, and she strokes his jaw, as she smiles, gently. "I'm here".  
  
Ben seems terrified, for a moment, and then he rolls on his back, letting out a deep breath and closing his eyes. She quietly slides close to him, nestling her body against his side, and his arm automatically comes to encircle her frame, a hand on her hipbone. She looks at him, a question in her eyes, and then, when he nods, she swings her arm around his torso, placing her hand right on his chest, against his skin.  
  
"I think you noticed that I have a bad case of anxiety," he says, with that little self-deprecating smile he's so fond of. "It's always been there, and my parents tried their best but, of course, they couldn't quite understand what to do. It's not like I came to the world with a book of instructions. But they tried. They fought a lot, and my father used to leave us often, but - they did try. I know that now".  
  
She kisses his shoulder, gently, and he smiles down at her - softly, this time, no trace of that exhaustion on his face. She smiles up at him too, tracing patterns along his chest. The scar there is red and angry, but she caresses it anyway, and Ben closes his eyes, sighing.  
  
"Things got worse after college. I felt so _lost,_ all the time. I got really bad. I had to come back to my parent's place for a while," he says, and he tells this story flatly, almost as if it didn't really belong to him. But she can hear the way his voice falters, and his heart speeds up under her hand, and she holds him to her, pressing kisses to his skin.   
  
"Ben," she tries to say, but words seems so useless right now, because what could she ever say to him? That she's sorry? That it's terrible? He probably already knows it. "Ben" she repeats, because his name is the only thing that makes sense in her mind. Surprisingly, he seems to be soothed by it and he breathes deeply, closing his eyes for a moment. The fluttering of his lashes feels almost like a hurricane in her small bedroom. "It's okay, Ben. It's okay," she murmurs, gently.  
  
His fingers trace patterns along her hipbone, as he speaks. He tells the whole story without pausing, almost as if it was easier this way, driving into pain and misery at full speed hoping they couldn't touch him. "My mother was kind, and she understood. Now I know she was worried sick for me, but she tried to conceal it. My father- he tried. I think he truly did, but sometimes he couldn't get it. He hadn't since I was a teenager. We fought a lot. I was stupid".  
  
She kisses his shoulder over and over again, because that's the only thing she can do for him right now - because no amount of words can fix what went wrong in the past, no matter how hard she tries. She knows it far too well. She can't change it, but she can make his present bearable, with kindness and love. She remembers the way Luke had stared at her, weeks ago, begging her to take care of Ben, and she realizes again she can't erase the past and there's no way to fix a person, but she can pour all the love she feels for him on the wounds, on the scars he seems so afraid of, and hope it's enough to make it easier to bear.  
  
Her hand traces patterns over his heart. "You weren't stupid," she tells him, softly. "You were scared. We all make mistakes when we are scared" God knows she has too. Being scared wasn't exactly a feeling, but a sort of constant companion, growing up, and even know, as Ben grips her hip to pull her closer, a part of her screams, because it's always too much, it's always something she doesn't know how to handle. 

He sighs, turning slightly into her direction to look her in the eyes. Rey smiles, gently, at him, as her fingers dig into his chest, not enough to hurt but enough to remind him that he's here, right now, with her, and she's not going to leave him for the mistakes of his past. "I just- I should have handled that better," he replies, shaking his head. "I don't exactly remember what we were fighting about last time. It feels so stupid now, but it seemed terrible at the time. I was so desperate and he just kept attacking me. I think I understand now - it was his way to help me. Trying to make me snap out of it, as if it was a thing I could turn on and off" he breathes deeply, again, as if to calm himself.

Rey stares at him, and she can see the frightened boy underneath it all, under the mask he has made of his face, and his fragile heart, learning how to beat. She can feel it under her fingers, as it speeds up, and she kisses again his shoulder, trying to reassure him. 

"I punched him," he admits, in the end. It feels like the last wall standing behind the two of them has finally crumbled down, and he stares at her with eyes full of fear, as if she could leave him right now. And then, when she doesn't pull away, he continues,  "He didn't even try to defend himself, he just let me punch him again and again and-" he chokes on his words again, body shivering against hers, and she holds him close, resting her hand on his heart.  "There was so much blood. My mother was screaming and my father was just there, with blood all over his face, watching me. He didn't even press charges against me, he just accepted it, I think. I couldn't stand it, so I ran away. I stopped answering their calls, I couldn't speak to them. I just- disappeared".  
  
She leans in to place her head on his chest,  out of instinct. He's breathing heavily, but he calms a little bit when she rests her head on his skin, hearing the erratic beat of his inexperienced heart underneath her cheek. She kisses him there, because it feels the right thing to do, and Ben lets out a little sob, almost as if he couldn't believe the fact that she's still there, and she's kissing him, and holding him, and never letting him go.

"I'm so sorry," she murmurs against his skin, sweetly, trying to reassure him. "I'm so sorry, Ben".  
  
She can hear him shake his head. "It's okay," he says, but of course, it's not. He's still terrified, and the past haunts him like a ghost, poisoning him, breaking him apart from the inside, emptying him and making a shell out of him. "Snoke had offered me a job in his company and even if my parents didn't want me to work for him, I thought that maybe I could do something. I could get better and healthy and come back to my parents and apologize".  
  
An empty laugh fill his lungs, and her bedroom, making her shiver. Instinctively, he tightens his grip on her hip, pressing her closer to him.

"The First Order was just another kind of hell. There's something inhumane about it. They don't even use real names" she nods against his chest, because she knows - she remembers Finn, and the way he still shudders at the thought of it. It makes her heart break, to think fragile, scared, already broken Ben went through the same thing, and she wishes she had been there. "I learned quickly and I got ahead. I was miserable all the time, but I couldn't come back home, so I stayed".  
  
He exhales and lets go of her hip, as his hand trails up her body, sinking into her hair. He toys with the strands, wrapping them around his fingers, finding some sort of peace in it, apparently. His voice wavers, but the mere act of playing with her hair seems to soothe him, somehow. He seems focused, so she doesn't tell him anything, afraid of breaking this fragile moment.   
  
"Then Luke called and everything went to hell. My father knew I was desperate and wanted to pick me up. Last time we spoke, I had broken his nose and pulled out two teeth, and he wanted to pick me up" his voice breaks a little, but Rey holds him through it, her head on his chest, her arm wrapped around him. "I didn't even get to say I was sorry for it. He never knew".  
  
She traces patterns on his chest with her fingertips, following the line of his muscles. He's a marvel of flesh and hard planes and softness, and her fingers brush against his skin as if was something miraculous. "I'm sure he knew, Ben, otherwise he wouldn't have been on that road," she tells him, softly, and she can feel him tremble in her embrace, and a new sob shakes his chest. She doesn't let him go.  
  
"I broke his nose," he says, almost as if was some kind of terrible punishment he keeps on inflicting himself. She thinks about the way he talks about his scars - and really, that's what he does. He keeps on torturing himself, opening wound on his skin and on his heart, burying the guilt so deep within himself it almost feels like the roots on which he has built his whole existence. "And he forgave me".  
  
She raises her head to look at him. His eyes look like flames, and there's a desperation on his face that burns everything around him - he's just a scared little thing, a kid who has just woken up from a nightmare, a bird fallen off his nest, but she can see beyond that. Oh, he thinks of himself as such a weak thing, but he's something wonderful and strong for having survived all of it. He's broken, but she is too, and maybe they can learn together how to deal with it. They both are afraid, and vulnerable, but it makes her heart swell in her chest, and she wants nothing but to learn how to breathe and live properly, with Ben at her side. "Of course he did," she tells him, quietly. "You were his son".  
  
He seem to be shaken by that simple thought, and tears fall on his cheeks. She stretches out a hand to wipe them, but he catches her wrist and brings her hand to his lips, kissing her palm so sweetly. How can he even say such horrible things about himself, when he has such a gentle soul, treating her like a treasure he doesn't feel worthy of? Rey has never been anything for anyone, and now he's there, and he kisses her hand with love in his eyes, and she doesn't know what it means to love something, but she wants to try.  
  
She wants to love this fragile, broken man in front of her.  
  
"I can't come back home. I just can't, because I know my mother will look at me and she will forgive me," he says, shivering. He's still holding her wrist, but he lets her go when she curves her fingers around his, clasping his hand. "After everything I've done, she will forgive me. And I can't- I don't deserve it".  
  
She raises herself on her elbow to better look at him, all splayed out on her bed underneath her. He looks so at ease, here, like he has finally found a place to belong to, and so real, but he stares at her with fear on his face, almost as if he was scared of her - of her reaction, of seeing her run away from him, maybe. There are still tears in his eyes, and their hands are still joined, resting on her pillow, and she squeezes it, reminding him she's not going anywhere.   
  
"Maybe it's not about what you deserve, Ben," she tells him, as she lowers just a little bit to wipe the tears away with her lips. She feels him shiver, and when she looks at him, he's staring at her like she's something marvellous and indecipherable. "Sometimes people are going to love us whether we deserve it or not. Maybe it's not about deserving it, maybe it's about learning to accept it".  
  
He looks so lost, like he's struggling to wrap his mind around that thought. He trembles under her gaze, and when he speaks, his voice is so broken and hopeful at the same time it breaks her heart into a million pieces. He sounds like a kid, asking her a simple explanation. "How?"  
  
She lets go of his hand only to cup his face, her fingers curving around his cheek, gently. Her thumb brushes against the tears, wiping them away with slow, rhythmic movements, and he shivers in her touch.   
  
"I don't know, Ben," she tells him, honestly, because she really doesn't know. Accepting love isn't that easy even for her, and the way he looks at her is still something hard to deal with. She can't really give him advice, but maybe that's the thing - they both are broken and isolated, loneliness carving a hole into their souls, and they can learn together how to accept the love they don't think themselves worthy of. "But it's going to be alright. I promise".  
  
"What if," he says, voice ragged in his throat, and wavering. "What if she forgives me?"  
  
She can hear what he's not saying out loud - what if his mother forgives him, and he has to let go of all that guilt and hatred and pain? He seems to have built his life around it, and he looks so afraid of letting go of it.  
  
"Then you can start again".

*

Ben is nowhere to be seen the next few days.  
  
At first, it feels almost normal and she tries not to think about it. Maybe he needs time, Rey tells herself, maybe he needs to be alone for a while. She thinks about him, all splayed out on her bed, holding onto her as if his life depended on it, looking at her like she was offering him the sun. He had kissed her goodbye and smiled down at her, before heading for the door, telling her he needed to think for a while.  
  
"Don't worry, okay?" he had said, against her forehead, as he lowered himself to place a kiss on her skin. "I'm going to be fine".  
  
That's the last time she ever saw him.  
  
"Don't worry about it, maybe he's just sick," Finn tells her, handing her the cup of coffee. She stares at it in confusion, because she's not used to it - to one single cup, instead of two. It feels weird and out of place, and it makes her want to cry. "He's going to come back, Rey," he adds, noticing her expression. She probably looks on the verge of tears, and she feels stupid because - he's just gone for a few days, it's not that terrible, and why is she being so pathetic about it?  
  
"You're right," she replies, taking the coffee he's handing her in her hands. The cup is hot, almost burning, and it feels nice against her panic-cold skin. She takes a sip of the beverage, in silence, thinking about Ben, and the way he shivered in her arms, so vulnerable and afraid. "I'm just worried".  
  
Finn stretches out his hand, placing it on hers. She's been pretty uncomfortable with physical contact for almost all her life, but he's being kind, and sweet and something has changed in these few months with Ben, so she just stares at Finn, trying to smile, and his touch feels more like a blessing, than something terrifying.   
  
"I know you are, Rey," he says, gently, as his thumb slowly strokes the back of her hand. His touch is not calming, but it softens the edge of her worries for a small moment. It's not much, but it's something, for now. "But he's so smitten about you, it's like he believes the sun rises and sets for you only".  
  
Other times, she would have blushed, but right now her mind seems to race furiously from one thought to another, desperately chasing down that certainty that seems so easy to Finn. Nothing has ever been easy in her mind, not when it comes to love.  
  
She knows Ben cares for her, somehow - rationally, she remembers the way he had stared up at her, as if he was watching a galaxy come into focus right before his eyes, awe in his eyes, devotion on his lips as he kissed his way down her neck. But it all feels so distant - as if all of that happened to someone else.  
  
Someone who could be loved.  
  
"I don't know," she tries to say, pressing her lips together, but Finn pats her hand and stares at her with his warm, kind eyes, and gives her a small smile, and she tries to believe him.  
  
"But _I know_ , Rey. I've seen the way he acts around you," he tells her, sweetly. "Trust me, he's not going to stay away from you for long".  
  
She wants to believe him, really. She wants to believe those words so desperately - but there's a part of her, a part that seems so deep and ancient, that can't seem to wrap itself around it. It's an old wound, a phantom pain - but Ben disappears, and she's a child again, watching her parents slowly walk away from her.

She wonders if that will ever stop.  
  
She has tried to call him, but he hasn't picked up the phone. He hasn't replied to her texts. She doesn't even know where he lives and his words play on repeat in her head, a lullaby of panic and terror in her mind - _I just - disappeared_ , his voice says, poisoning her thoughts, and panic takes hold of her soul, making her shiver, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. She lies on her side, in her bed, staring at the place where he usually sleeps, all curled up around her, holding her close, and she misses him, and it feels like all the air has been taken out of her lungs.  
  
He's going to leave her, he's going to disappear again.  
  
The realization doesn't come with a surprise - it's more like a knowledge, always buried in her mind, resurfacing just now. He's going to leave her - and really, this shouldn't be shocking, because why wouldn't he? Why wouldn't anyone? Why wouldn't her parents? What has she to offer? She's just an orphan kid, a desert rat who somehow crawled its way into a decent life. She's _nothing_. She's always been nothing.  
  
That's when she spots Luke. She's coming out of The Resistance, shivering in the cold air of the morning, when she notices his old pick up, and him, climbing out of it with swift, agile movements that surprise her, somehow, even if she knows him well by now. She walks up to him a minute, still holding her cup of coffee, and she stares at him for a few seconds, not knowing how to start a conversation. Words race to her mind, but they die on her lips, as she stares at him.  
  
"Hey, Luke," she says, trying to keep her voice from wavering. He's closing the pick up, so he has to raise his eyes to look at her, and when he notices her, standing in front of him, a small smile - tired and worried - comes up on his face.  
  
Maybe he already knows, Rey thinks. 

"Hey, kid," he says, gently, stretching out his hand to pat her shoulder. His eyes are tired, almost exhausted, and there's a line on his forehead that is probably born out of worry. She hears him sigh, looking at his hands, before he raises his eyes again to stare at her - the same smile at the corner of his mouth, almost resigned. "Is this about Ben?"

She nods, not trusting her voice enough to talk. She knows she's about to cry and she hates it - she hates feeling vulnerable and terrified, the little kid that watched her parents turn their backs on her, and begged them to come back. She doesn't want to feel like this ever again - but it's Ben they are talking about, and so she doesn't mind, after all. He's worthy feeling so out of control for.

"Is he okay? I'm _-" terrified, frightened, overwhelmed_   "Worried".  
  
Luke sighs again, as if this conversation cost him half of his heart.

"He's fine, I believe" he replies, as he slowly makes his way around the pickup, his hands still fumbling with the keys. "He told me he needs a few days to think. He promised he was okay and-" he interrupts himself, voice wavering a little bit, and Rey is surprised - because Luke always looked like a rock, something neither time nor people could move. But, instead, he's almost trembling as he talks, and she realizes only now, watching him, how much he must care about Ben. She had always known, of course, no matter how much Ben thought himself undeserving of it, but seeing it - it feels different. It feels real. "I know he has a habit of disappearing into nothing, but I think he's too afraid of hurting me even more to attempt an escape, so. I believe him".  
  
She stares at him, still holding the cup of coffee in her hand, but she feels far away. She's in her bedroom again, holding on to Ben, tracing patterns over his scars, telling him it was okay, she was okay. She's there, looking at his sad, pensive eyes and she realizes just now how much she never wants to let go of him. He has carved a place into her life, with his soft smiles and burning eyes, and she can't imagine an existence without his presence anymore.

"Do you think he's okay?" she asks Luke, because she needs to hear it. To have someone believe Ben is okay, and not - gone. Disappeared again. She never had someone to reassure her, and it feels weird to stare at Luke, expectantly, but he looks at her with kind eyes, and a soft smile, and it feels like everything she never had in her life.  
  
"I think he's going to be okay, eventually," Luke replies, shrugging. He's staring at the plants in the back of his pick up, almost as if they could give him an answer. "Maybe not right now, but - he's going to be fine".  
  
It's such a relief, hearing him say those words. She didn't know how scared she was of losing Ben until she had to face it - and now she breathes, deeply, in and out, trying to calm her erratic heart. He's not gone, he's just thinking. Clearing his head. He's going to be okay. They're going to be okay.  
  
"Thank you. Sorry, I was just so worried and-" she tries to say, and she blinks away a few tears. Luke is kind enough to pretend not to notice it, and she's glad, because she wouldn't know how to explain him everything. "Thank you".  
  
Luke pats her arm again, giving her a small smile and staring up at her with a curious, fond expression on his face. He looks soft, like this, and even his intense eyes are less sharp and cutting, as he looks at her.

"Don't apologize, you care about him," he says, stroking her arm through her coat. Then he sighs, and comes to pick up the plants he was observing just a few seconds ago.  
  
Rey tries to stop him, immediately. "Wait, I'll help you!" she tells him, remembering how it was something Ben did, because Luke asked him to.  
  
But, surprisingly, Luke manages just fine. He picks up the two plants with ease, and he doesn't look pained at all. "I know I look old, but I'm not that old, Rey," he tells her, flashing her a small grin, and she can't help but blink, surprised. "Can you open the door for me, though?"  
  
She does, in silence, too stunned for words, and he carries the plants inside, bending over to place them on the floor. He does it so swiftly, so harmonically she is still shocked, blinking at the sight.

"But," she says, as she closes the door behind herself and stares at Luke, who's now cleaning his hands on his apron. "You always make Ben help you," she reminds him, because, seriously, she's still shocked by his agility and strength.  
  
Luke raises to his feet and turns into her direction, and there's a softness in him - a sweet smile, a mix of resignation and affection that leaves her young heart confused and starved for it.

"Because that was the only way I could bring him here," he replies, shrugging, and the smile doesn't fade from his face. It just turns sadder, somehow, but still immensely soft and sweet. "Making him believe he had a purpose here. That he was needed".  
  
Rey's heart aches. "You gave him an excuse".  
  
She thinks about Ben - of his face and trembling shoulders, as he told her about his life, and how he talked about it as it was something he had to atone for.   
  
"Yeah," Luke replies, nodding and studying her, his eyes almost piercing, in their gentleness. "I don't think he would have ever left Coruscant otherwise. He had to believe he was doing it for someone else, and not for himself".  
  
Rey understands it - he had to believe it was some kind of atonement for his sins, a compulsory purgatory in which he could redeem himself. He had to believe he was doing it for Luke - and instead, he was doing it for his own soul.

She looks at Luke, and she sees him for the first time - his weariness, his sharpness and his softness, and the way he carries himself around, the mark of the years on his face, and a sort of sadness around him. She thinks about how it must pain him, to see Ben like this, and she remembers he was the one that found Ben in his own blood, glass shards in his skin and a broken heart in his hands.

"You really love him," she says, with a little smile, softly. "Ben. You love him".  
  
At that, Luke almost shudders, and Rey would give anything to make Ben see it - to make him realize he is loved, despite everything and maybe even because of it. She never had someone to love her so unconditionally before she came here, and she's surprised to realize she feels the same - she's surprised to realize how much love someone can feel, how big and immense and painful it can be, to love another person.   
  
She loves him - Ben. Despite everything, and because of it, and really, it's that easy, and she realizes it for the first time - she has spent her whole life chasing down the love she never got, always thinking it had to be difficult, to love another thing, but now she realizes how easy and wonderful is to love someone, and she is surprised and amazed by the beauty of it.   
  
"Of course I do," Luke replies, quietly, staring at her with kind eyes. He doesn't look as old and wise anymore - he looks like a human being, right in front of her, and maybe that's what he has always been. Not a rock, or something unshakable - just Luke. "He's my nephew. I watched him grow. I was there when we played pirates and he had a wooden sword. No matter how messed up he gets, I do love him".  
  
She nods, and she can finally understand it - the immensity of all of it. It feels bigger, bigger than her and Luke and the entire world, but it's not as scary as she thought. It's frightening, yes, but in the way the immensity of the desert is - something so beautiful and endless it leaves you fascinated and wide eyed, but it makes you shudder at the same time.   
  
Luke stares at her, kindly, and maybe he can read it on her face, because he smiles at her, but he says nothing, as always, because that's what Luke is - silent, and observing, and kind, in his own sharp, piercing way. She is glad of it, because she wouldn't know how to explain it to someone else. She doesn't even know how to explain it to herself - she just knows, with all the surety she can muster, she is in love with Ben.  
  
"I'll give you his address," Luke says, after a while, his smile turning into an half smirk, making her quirk her eyebrows at him. He laughs, quietly, as usual. "He said he needed time think away from the shop. He didn't say anything about you".  
  
She holds her arms over her chest, unsure. "Do you think he'll let me in?"  
  
Luke scribbles something on a piece of paper, and then turns into her direction, with a soft smile on his lips and a marvelled expression on his face. "Oh, kid," he says, sweetly. "I think he already has".

*

Ben lives nearby the shop, so she doesn't need to take the bus. She walks there, hugging herself, almost gripping her coat in her hands, hoping it could give her some sort of grounding feeling.  
  
It doesn't.   
  
When she reaches his building, she's shaking. She climbs the stairs with her heart in her throat, following Luke's direction, and then, when she comes in front of his door, she has to take a deep breath before she rings the doorbell.  
  
The ringing sound is almost haunting, in the silence of the building, and it prolongs itself for a second that feels like a lifetime. Her hand falls to her side, as she hears footsteps on the other side of the door, and she tries to brace herself for whatever may come - rage or rejection or something in between because that's all she has ever known -, but then the door opens, and she was not prepared at all.  
  
"Rey?"   
  
His voice is faint and raspy, and he stands in the doorway, looking at her with wide eyes. He's pale, and there are circles under his eyes, and he's wearing sweatpants and a clearly old hoodie and his hair is all messed up, sticking to his face, and he looks like he hasn't slept in days - but he's here. He's here and real and - oh, how much she loves him. She knows she's crying, but she doesn't care about it at all.  
  
"Rey, is everything okay?" he asks, worried, furrowing his brow and, really, how can he be so stupid and oblivious? He's here and she wants to hug him and punch him and kiss him senseless and tell him he's an idiot. She groans, and then she does something surprising.  
  
She jumps at him.   
  
Ben catches her immediately, one arm coming to wrap around her hips, the other under her thighs, to steady her, as her legs come to encircle his waist. She sinks her head into his neck, resting her forehead against his warm skin, and starts to sob, her hands digging into the fabric of his hoodie, pulling him into her. It's not enough, it will never be enough - not right now, when her heart feels like a fragile, fluttering thing in her chest, overwhelmed by the relief and the pain and the fear and the love. She wants to crush him into her and never let him go, and tell him - all of it. But instead she just sobs into his neck, shivering, holding onto him.  
  
"Rey, hey," he tells her, sweetly, as his hand trails up and down her back, the reassuring gesture that she knows so well. She can hear him close the door, and then he walks them into his apartment, making no move of dropping her. "Hey, it's alright, love. It's alright".  
  
This only makes her sob harder, and she clings to him, as his hand rubs her back, gently, oh so gently. She barely notices they're moving, and she realizes he's sitting down on the couch only when she feels his legs bending, and she finds herself at eye level with him.

She doesn't intend to let him go, not now and possibly not for the next few days (or months, or years, or ever - she hasn't decided yet)  so she doesn't move at all - she just tries to calm her sobs, resting her forehead against his shoulder and pulling him into her with her hands, gripping his hoodie between her fingers so hard he must be almost uncomfortable. He doesn't say anything - he just strokes her back, slowly, his fingers caressing every knot up her spine, as steps on a ladder.  
  
His touch is calming, somehow.  
  
"Don't ever do that to me," she murmurs, against the skin of his neck, dragging her lips across his collarbone. She feels his hand coming to brush through her hair, his fingers wrapping around the strands and she remembers how it calmed him, just a few days before, when he was the one breaking down in front of her. She tries to breathe, in and out, slowly. "Don't disappear on me ever again. Please. I can't take it, Ben, I can't. Please".  
  
He goes tense under her, just like the first time they kissed, and then he presses sweet kisses to her temple and to the side of her face, his lips gentle and warm, making her heart burst in her chest. He covers her skin with kisses, holding her against his chest.  
  
"Fuck, I'm so sorry, love, I'm so sorry, I just thought- I didn't want to bother you with _this,_ I didn't want to make you see me like this, fuck I'm so sorry," he keeps on murmuring, and she sobs again a little bit, body shivering against his. He calls her _love_ , lavishing her face with kisses, and strokes her back with fondness, holding her through it and never letting her go, and her heart can't take it, can't take it, can't take it. "I'm so sorry, I just didn't want to make you worry".  
  
She laughs against his skin - a breathy, teary laugh that shakes her body.

"You idiot," she tell him, because, well, he deserves it. He doesn't reply, because apparently he knows he deserves it. At least, Rey thinks. "You think you can just stop answering your phone and disappear without me worrying sick? I thought you'd left".  
  
At these words, his hand comes on her face, two fingers under her chin to move her head into his direction. She follows his lead, because she can't really help it, and she looks him in the eyes and - _oh_.

All the pieces of her soul, all the cracks in her heart, all the times she had starved for love, begging for it, looking for it standing behind the windows of Jakku's orphanage - all of that merges into this single moment, where he's looking at her with tenderness and warmth and utter and pure devotion in his eyes, and Rey can't help the small sob escaping her lips.  
  
He smiles at her, and his hand comes to cup her face, stroking her skin. His touch is tender, and speaks of a love so immense, so earth-shattering and all-consuming she doesn't really know what to say.  
  
"I'd never leave. Not you," he says. His voice is still hoarse and he looks still like shit, violet circles under his eyes bordering almost on black, but the way he says that - so sure, so convinced of it, looking at her like she is the reason for the whole universe to turn - makes her shiver. "I'm so sorry, Rey. I really am".  
  
She nods, as her hands slowly come to rest on his chest, her fingers splayed out on his hoodie, stroking his skin over the thin fabric.   
  
"I know," she says, because she can read how sorry he is on his face - how it pains him, to see her cry and break down because of him. She has felt him tense under her, stroking her back because he didn't know what to do. She lowers a little bit so she can place a kiss right on his forehead, reassuring him. She doesn't want to become another sin for him to atone for. "Please don't do that again".  
  
He shivers.

"I won't, love, I promise," he whispers, so softly, as if he didn't want the world to hear it - just a secret uttered between the two of them. The way he calls her _love_ makes her want to cry again, so she tries to distract herself. She trails down, placing kisses on his temple and then on his cheek, tracing the lines of his moles with her lips, slowly. "I just didn't think you- you'd care this much".  
  
She pulls away, frowning, and stares at him in confusion, and he stares back, and his gaze is lost, looking at her like he's not quite sure he's following her and it hits her in a moment - he's not doubting the way she feels about him, he's doubting his worth. It breaks her heart to realize what he's actually saying, and how he stares at her, marveling at the fact that, despite everything, despite what he thinks of himself, she's there and she's clinging to him, and she does not intend to let him go.  
  
He still has to learn, she realizes - he still has to learn he can be loved.  
  
"Oh, Ben," she hears herself say, and then she rests her forehead against his, staring in his big, deep, warm eyes, full of unshed tears. She wants to tell him - the immensity of it, of the fear and the love and the fact that she can't imagine it but at the same time she can't live without it. "You idiot," she just says, because that's the only way she can convey all that she's feeling.   
  
He laughs and then he's kissing her - and it's sweet, and gentle, and delicate, and it feels like a day spent in the sun, like the promise of spring after a long winter, like flowers blooming against the cold. She sinks her hands into his hair, and he holds her to his chest and it feels like a whole lifetime, spent like this - lazily kissing on his couch, lost on each other, a heart beating furiously between the two of them. She doesn't know if it's hers or his, but she supposes it doesn't matter.  
  
They stay like this for a while, even after they break away.

She leans in, placing her head on his shoulder, slowly breathing in his scent, enjoying the feeling his body against hers - so firm, so solid, so real under her palms. The way his chest rises and falls, rhythmically, is almost a work of art, and a blessing. He traces small patterns along her back with his fingertips, pressing kisses to her temple and murmuring sweet things into her ear. He calls her _love_ , and she shivers, but she wants to hear him saying that over and over again. It almost feels like a lullaby, and she wants nothing but fall asleep like this - his hand on her back, and his deep voice calling her love, whispering sweet nothings on her skin.  
  
It feels almost weird, to be on the other side of that fear. She has spent her whole life trying to deal with it, pushing it deep inside her, hiding it from everyone, and even herself, trying to forget about it - but it has always been there, flowing in her veins, clinging to her bones and clawing at her throat, reminding her of everything she could lose. She has tried to forget about it, but the control she has exerted on everything in her life was all but a reflection of that fear buried deep within herself.  
  
But now - now it feels different. Now that it has happened - panic flowing through her body, somebody disappearing again, leaving alone again -, it almost tastes like freedom. Once you face your worst fear and nothing really happens, she thinks as she nuzzles Ben's neck and is rewarded by a small kiss on her hairline, you can start again.  
  
She's not sure she actually can, but she sinks into his arms, and for now, it's enough.  
  
"I made a decision," Ben says, after a while, against her skin. She hums, softly, against his neck, because she has no intention of moving - in fact, she could stay like this forever. "I'm gonna come back home".  
  
This makes her move. She pulls away from him, raising her head, and she stares at him, lips parted, not really knowing what to say. "To your mother?"  
  
"Yes," he says, as his fingers find their way up to her neck, making her shiver. His hand cups her face, gently. "I'm going to ask her for forgiveness. You were right. It's not about deserving it, it's about learning to accept it".  
  
She smiles at him, blinking away a few tears. "Okay," she says, nodding. She doesn't really know what to say, so she just stares at him, a smile on her lips and a trembling, shivering creature in her chest. "Okay".  
  
"Then I'm going to come back," he adds, pulling her close and placing a kiss on the place where the smile has left a dimple on her cheek. "And we're going to start again".  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a [tumblr](http://kylorensx.tumblr.com/) if you want to say hi or drop a prompt or something! i swear i'm friendly!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His mother smirks again, propping her elbow on the table and staring at him with mischief in her eyes. "So, you ran away from home and got a tattoo".
> 
> He blushes, under her gaze, his fingers nervously tracing the lines of the tattoo Rey has inked on his skin. He doesn't know how to explain it to his mother, and he doesn't want to hurt her and tell her he got the tattoo to cover up his scars, so he presses his lips together and tries to give her a small smile. "I guess that's not what you expected from me".
> 
> But his mother surprises him, as always. She laughs, free and easy, and shakes her head, her eyes shining a little bit in the sun-lighted kitchen. "Honestly, Ben," she says, speaking his name as if it had been just a day from the last time she had uttered it. It has been more than ten years, though. "That's the _least_ I expected from someone who came out of me and Han. It's a miracle you're not a deranged lunatic or, you know, in prison".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is kind of heavy and it deals with grief/mourning, so i'm warning you before! it's been hard to write and i fussed over it for a long time, but i hope in the end i managed to get the message across all the same!
> 
> wow i can't believe we're almost at the end. thank you for sticking with me and always having kind words for me, it really means the world to me!

"I'm sorry for how I acted," Rey murmurs against the crook of his neck, her lips pressed firmly against his skin. It feels weirdly intimate, almost as if she was tattooing him again, etching her adoration and devotion right on his complexion with her mouth, and Ben is still in awe at the fact that she's there, despite everything he has put her through. "Maybe you needed time on your own. It's just- I freaked out. I thought you had left me too and I didn't think".

He runs his fingers up and down her spine, slowly, as if to count every rib, every indentation on her skin to assure himself she's real. "Don't apologize," he whispers back, pressing a kiss to her hairline, sweetly. This moments reminds of a New Year's Eve spent under the stars, Rey clinging to him as she told him about her past, and, instinctively, he places his hand at the small of her back, pulling her closer into him, almost as if he could protect her from everything else, even from him, this way. She hums, approvingly, and her eyelashes brush against his neck as she closes her eyes. "I'm really sorry for shutting you out. I thought it was for the best. I didn't want you to have to deal with me".

Surprisingly, she laughs. It's gentle and sweet, but there's a sort of exhaustion around it, and Ben puts his arms around her, almost as if to cradle her and lull her to sleep. He's broken and he doesn't even know how to fix himself, but he wants to protect her - and he knows she doesn't need him to, she can take care of herself on her own because that's what she has always done, but it doesn't have to be like this. He wants to hold her close and shield her from the rest of the world, just as she has done with him. He's broken, and she is too, somehow, but maybe they can heal together.

"But I want to deal with you, you idiot," she replies, gently. He's not offended by it - he knows she's not really insulting him, and even if she was, he kind of deserves it for the way he has acted, running away like a little kid because he was scared she would leave him, seeing him like that. Her lips press against the skin of his neck, and she leaves a kiss there, bringing him back to reality. "I want to be there for you. You don't have to go through it alone, Ben. You are not alone".

He's speechless for a moment. He's always been alone, even when things were easier, even when his mother was there to help him through everything. He remembers the way his parents used to talk about him at night, when they thought he was asleep, whispering away their fears - as if he was some kind of terrible creature no one could take the effort to learn and love. Even his mother - the person who had loved him the most - sometimes couldn't reach him or understand him, and he has spent his life trying to get used to the simple, basic truth of his life: that he was going to be alone.

But Rey rests her head on his shoulder, kissing his neck and clinging to him, her fingers digging in the fabric of his hoodie, almost as if letting him go was too painful for her, and she tells him he's not alone, and he can't believe it. He can't believe how easily she understands him, or how quickly he's willing to let her understand him. "No one ever told me that," he murmurs, quietly.

She pulls away from him just slightly to look him in the eyes. Her hands are still splayed on his chest, anchoring him to her, and her eyes are as fierce and burning as the first time he has met her, back in her studio. There's a determination that hangs around her, enveloping her small frame.

"Well, it was about time," she says, as a matter of fact. Ben's heart goes into utter chaos again, and it seems almost right that he has spent all his life searching for a place to call home, and finding it in her arms. "You are not alone, Ben".

He leans in, resting his forehead against hers, again. He can almost count all the freckles on the bridge of her nose, up close, and her eyes are full of wonder as she takes him in. There's a small smile on the curve of her lips, and he cups her face with his hand, thumb brushing against her mouth to feel that smile under his fingertips. "Neither are you".

There are tears in her eyes, but she is stubborn and all too used to be strong, and she doesn't cry again. She limits herself to bury her head in his shoulder again, breathing heavily, pulling him into her as if she could merge their souls somehow.

She falls asleep like that - all curled up around him, her head resting on his shoulder, her arms around his torso, and she looks so peaceful and quiet he can feel his heart swell at the sight. Her breath ghosts on his neck, even and steady, and he presses a kiss to her forehead before picking her up like she weights nothing and carrying her to the bed.   
  
The sheets are all torn and messy, thanks to days of endless nightmares, and he wasn't exactly expecting visitors, let alone her, but he deposits there her small frame with the utmost care, placing her head on the pillow and throwing a blanket over her, and she sighs, contentedly. She looks so at ease and calm, and he feels something stinging his heart, as the thinks about her tears and the way she has clung to him the whole night. He places another kiss on her forehead, before pulling away.  
  
Surprisingly, Rey whines.

"Don't go. Please," she says, and she stretches out her arm in an attempt to reach for him, grabbing his hoodie. She still has her eyes closed, and she's probably half asleep, not really realizing what is happening, but Ben kneels at the side of the bed anyway, stroking her face. Rey sighs, a little soft sound that has him in tears.  
  
"Just a minute, love," he tells her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She sighs again, her lips curving in a small smile. "I'll come in a minute, I promise," he repeats, and she nods, finally let him go and rolling over in the bed. Ben is surprised by how good she looks here, on his mattress, between torn sheets and nightmares-ridden blankets. He could get used to this.  
  
He sighs, and then he exits the bedroom, retrieving his phone from the kitchen counter, where he has left it days before. There are missed calls from Rey and Luke, and even a bigger number of texts from her. He sighs, running a hand through his hair, the same guilt eating away his soul. His heart hammers in his chest, and his hands tremble, as he looks for the number, but it feels less like death and more like coming alive again. He thinks about Rey, her head placed on his chest as he finally spit out everything he had kept inside for years. And he thinks about Luke, patting his hand, telling him he's finally giving himself a chance.   
  
He can do this. He has to do this - and not for them, not because they are asking him to, but because he wants to. That's the difference and, maybe, that's what he has to learn - doing something for himself, and not to punish himself. It's a long road, he thinks.   
  
But every road has a starting point.  
  
The call starts almost automatically, and he holds his breath, as the ringing sound deafens him, carving a hole in the layers of brokenness and loneliness and isolation he has covered himself with for over ten years.   
  
"Hello?" his mother's voice says, and it's a jolt, it's a knife straight into his heart, it's every scar he has ever inflicted himself all merged into one. It's panic running down his veins, choking him, making him feel dizzy. "Hello?"  
  
For the first time, he fights through it - through the choking and the fear and the sweat on his forehead, and all that pain.

"Mom? It's me, Ben" he says. His voice is faint, feeble. He can hear himself shiver, his teeth clattering. "I'm coming back. I'm coming home".

*

"I love what you have done to the place," Luke says, raising his eyebrows as he sits on his bed as if he had done this everyday of his life. "Feels very homely. Nice," he adds, as he looks around, eyeing the obvious unfurnished mess that is his apartment, full of boxes he has still to unpack from his time in Coruscant.

Ben groans. "Shut up," that's all he says, and Luke laughs, quietly as usual, under his breath. He has insisted to help him pack for the trip back home, and Ben is not sure he actually needs help, but - it feels nice, to have someone to lean on for a moment and keep him company, and he's way past denying himself this. He _wants_ this - he wants to bicker with Luke, and hear his sarcastic comments about his _talent_ for interior design, and know that, despite everything, Luke will always be there for him, hand stretched and a little smile on his face.

He doesn't deserve it, maybe, but why should it make a difference?

Ben sighs and crouches on the floor to retrieve an old bag from his closet - the one he had brought with him, when he had moved from Coruscant to Naboo, sitting on the passenger side of his uncle's old pick up. It feels like a lifetime ago - he had bandages on his arms and shoulder, and a broken heart in his hands, and maybe he's no better now, but somehow, time and people and, surprisingly, himself have started to put the pieces back together. And maybe he's still very far from being okay, but he can see it now - he's also very far from being that bad, too.

"Hey, kid," Luke says, and Ben looks up from his bag to stare at him, eyebrow raised. His uncle is looking at him with a smile on his wrinkled face, and there's something soft in his eyes - they're not as cutting and piercing as usual, but they're almost gentle, in the way they rest on him. "I know that running a flower shop wasn't exactly your thing," he adds, as the smile turns a little bit wide, less soft but still incredibly kind.

Ben laughs, as he retrieves a handful of tee shirts from his closet, under Luke's gaze. "Yeah, definitely," he replies, shaking his head as he shoves the tee shirts in his old, battered bag, without thinking about it. He's trying not to focus on the fact that he's packing his bags because he's coming back to his mother, even if for just a while, because otherwise his hands would tremble and he would not be able to do anything about it. "I mean, my bouquets are still terrible. It's a miracle we still have costumers".

Luke chuckles, softly. "You just need a more bit more practice," he says, with irony in his voice. It's true that Ben's bouquets have not improved in the slightest, because his hands are too big and clumsy for something so beautiful and delicate, but there is something in it that makes him peaceful for a moment, so he doesn't mind it so much. "So, if you want ..."

Ben turns into his direction, eyebrows raised and a confused frown on his face, not quite sure he's getting what his uncle is trying to say. "What?"

"Well, I don't know what your plans are, but," Luke shrugs, flashing him a little, soft smile. His eyes are still unbearably gentle, and Ben is almost taken aback by the easy, the simplicity of all of it - his uncle sitting on his bed, staring at him with a smile on his face, as if Ben made him happy somehow. His stomach twists, and a part of him thinks _This is all I wanted, to make them happy. Why has it taken so long?_ "There will always be a place for you here, Ben".

There's a moment of silence, and Ben can feel his stomach drop. He stares at Luke like he can't quite understand him, but, truth be told, maybe he finally can - he can understand Luke now, and the quiet way he loves him, and the weariness in his eyes and the hope in his smile. Ben feels unworthy of all of it, as usual, but he tries, for the first time, to accept it all the same.

He thinks about Rey, staring down at him with a serious expression on her face and love in her eyes, as she whispered him it was not about deserving it - it was about accepting it. He doesn't know how, but he can try - not because she has asked him to, but because he wants to. He doesn't know how to live without all this guilt, but he wants to try.

He clears his throat before speaking, words stuck somewhere between his brain and his lips. "Are you serious?"

Luke smiles, even more softly, staring at him with tears in his eyes. But, for the first time since Coruscant, Ben is not left gaping or guilty - these are not tears of pain, this is not about suffering and blood. These are happy tears, and maybe it's nothing, maybe it's not enough to make up for years of pain he has inflicted upon his family, but it's something. It's something. "Of course I am," Luke replies, firmly. He's not crying, but the tears in the back of his eyes are still there. "You did good here, kid. So here's that".

He did good.

He thinks about the frightened kid he had been years and years ago, so desperate, crying himself to sleep because he was terrified of not being able to make his parents proud, because he was too weird and too prone to anger and too dark for them. He thinks about that kid, and he thinks - _you did good, Ben. You did good, in the end._

*

Admittedly, driving all the way from Naboo to Chandrila probably hasn't been his best idea.   
  
"You could take a plane, you know," Rey had told him, leaning against his car a few hours before, before kissing him goodbye, stroking his hair in an attempt to fix it, and then wrapping her fingers around the strands, the way she always does, he has learned, when she tries to calm herself. "Like normal people do".   
  
He had laughed. "I prefer driving," he had replied, letting her sneak her arms around his neck to pull him down to her. He complied without protests, kissing her. "And it feels right, like this".  
  
He hasn't told her it feels like an atonement, because he doesn't know how to explain it - he's walking the same road his father died on, and it's only right he does it like this, the car under him, his eyes focused on the road, a light breeze coming from the window and a song in the background. It's not a punishment anymore - it's more like accepting it, coming to terms with it, and something in his gut tells him it has to be this way.   
  
"You idiot," Rey had told him, before pulling him into another kiss, deeper and almost melancholic in its beauty. Her fingers played lazily with the hair at the base of his neck, and he had shivered in her arms, as his hands found their way around her hips, to pull her closer to him. "You'll come back, right?" she had asked on his lips, half lidded eyes, lashes brushing against his cheekbones. "I know it's stupid. You're doing this for yourself and you have every right to stay there and I don't want to project my issues on you but-"  
  
He had silenced her with his lips, kissing away the words and the fear from her mouth. "I'll come back," he had told her, smiling down at her. "I don't know what will happen or what I'll do after this. But I'll come back".  
  
He will come back, he knows it. He likes Chandrila, and the snow and the parks and way the sun shines, and the spring and that sort of endless summer, and even his parents' place, despite the memories and the nightmares  - but it doesn't feel like home and, despite everything, he can't see himself staying there. He doesn't know what he's going to do next, what will happen when he'll see his mother, but he'll come back.  
  
That's the only thing he's sure of, right now.  
  
It's bittersweet, and he realizes, slowly, surprise climbing lazily the ladder of his ribs till it settles between his shoulder blades, that is the first time that he's leaving behind something he will miss.

The first time he ran away - from Chandrila, from his parents, from blood and pain and misery - he was too scared to even think about what he had left behind; the second time, leaving Coruscant, he was so tired and exhausted and he hadn't anything there he would have missed.  
  
But now - he thinks of Naboo, of its quiet nights and silent mornings, of the rising sun painting Rey's face in shades of pink, of a snow covered park and bare trees. He thinks of his uncle's shop, a safe space after years of fear and pain and torture. Of The Resistance just across the street, so cozy and warm and lively it took him by surprise the first time. Of his apartment nearby, pretty unfurnished but so quiet and _his_. Of Luke smiling up at him, smirking, laughing quietly. Of Poe and Finn and Rose and even BB8, who have accepted him. Of Rey, and her bright smile and her eyes and the way she holds him.  
  
He's never had so much to miss in his life, and it feels almost overwhelming, but in a good way. His hands tighten on the wheel, but he smiles thought it, driving slowly as he eyes the way the intricate pattern of the tattoo snakes on his bare wrist.  
  
He thinks about Rey, her gentle smile as she dragged the needles across his skin, her focused expression, her lips pressed together. It had hurt, but in a way he could actually bear. It had felt right, too - he was trading old scars and memories of a unshakable pain for a new beginning. A hurt for a hurt, he had thought, as he watched her work so intently on it, glad it had been her. Her, and no one else.  
  
The pain has been quickly forgotten, this time.  
  
He arrives at his mother apartment in the middle of the afternoon. The days are getting longer, and the sun shines gently on the nice, urban street he knows so well. A few flowers are already blooming, their pink hues reminding him of springs spent in the park with his father, running around, playing lazily in the sun. It feels like a lifetime ago - a kid who died before he even knew what it meant to be alive -, but the memory it's not haunting or painful anymore.   
  
He thinks about it as he climbs up the stairs - about his father, and the way he smirked down at him, and the way he left, far too often, but always came back with little presents for him and an apologetic smile behind which he used to hide. He thinks about his mother, the firm way she held herself and the gentle, soft, loving smile she reserved for him. He thinks of Christmas, and on falling asleep in his parents' bed, as they reassured him after a nightmare. He thinks about the times his father slammed the door on them, and how he opened it again, weeks later, hesitantly, holding out his hand.

He thinks about his hugs, and his mother's smile, and the warmth of their presence when he was scared and terrified. He thinks about even their late night conversations, whispered behind closed doors, as they talked about his nightmares and his shortness of breath, worried for him.  
  
All the things he didn't allow himself to think about in all these years, all the memories he closed behind a blast door, so they couldn't get through. He had thought he had lost the key to that door a long time ago, but instead, he finds out now it has been open all along. He just - needed to close his fingers around the handle.  
  
"Don't tell me you have driven all the way here," his mother says, when she opens the door of her apartment.

She's small, smaller than he even remembers, and she's older, lines on her forehead and around her eyes that weren't there before, but she's still his mother - she's still energy and spark and fire and when she looks at him, there's still that brightness in her that he remembers from his childhood. Her eyes are glossy, but she pretends not to notice, and he smiles down at her, because there's something so Leia about it - steeling herself and being strong, always, for him.  
  
"I might have," Ben replies, apologetically, running a hand through his hair and then rubbing, nervously, the nape of his neck. His mother sighs. "It felt right".  
  
She groans, opening more the door of her apartment to finally let him in.

"You romantic fool," she tells him and Ben's heart swells, because - oh, how much he had missed this. Her teasing, her irony, her banter. He had always thought about his mother the way he had last seen her - tears in her eyes and blood on her hands, scared and hurt and pained.   
  
But she's so much more. She's always been so much more - a volcano of energy that couldn't be contained, a spark that was too big for her body. Kind eyes and playful words. _Home_.  
  
"Want some coffee?" she asks him, closing the door behind him.

Ben nods, putting down his bag and shedding his coat as he follows her in the kitchen, and it feels so weird - it feels like something taken out of the past, a ghost that came back to haunt him, but in a good way. He has spent so many hours at this table, doing his homework, dining with his parents, fighting with his father, and now he sits in silence, and he can almost see a glimpse of a little Ben, short hair and a crooked smile, playing with his model toy.  
  
His mother makes coffee in silence, moving with grace around the kitchen. They don't mention what he's here for, and he's glad, because he wouldn't know how to talk about it right now - it feels overwhelming enough to be here, as she hands him a mug of coffee, sun casting shadows on her face, making her eyes seem lighter.  
  
"Thank you," Ben says, automatically, and he can see the corner of her mouth quirk up, in a little, soft smile, as if the simple notion of him thanking her was earth-shattering. The words are still new to his lips, but he finds that he likes the taste of it. "You know, Luke says I'm an addict," he adds, nodding in the direction of the coffee mug in front of him. His mother rolls her eyes and shakes her head, almost annoyed, and it reminds him of a simpler time, when she used to groan at his father's terrible jokes.

"Luke is lucky he doesn't need caffeine to function properly," she replies, raising her eyebrows, and a little laugh escapes his lips, as his hands curve around the mug, fingers drumming against the material.

His mother sits right in front of him, with a cup between her hands, looking at Ben like she's studying him, trying to determine if he's here or if he's just a dream. Her eyes linger on his face, as if she was trying to memorize it before he disappeared again, and there's a little small smile on her lips as she does. What she sees in him, he doesn't know and he doesn't dare to ask - he's too afraid she will tell him he looks just like his father.

The little smile turns into a smirk as her eyes trail down. "Is that-" she asks, furrowing her brow a little bit but not losing the smirk on her lips. "Is that a tattoo?"

Ben is almost startled, and he follows her gaze, looking down on his bare arm too, pretty stupidly. "Oh," he says, surprised, as if he was seeing the tattoo for the first time in his life. One hand comes almost naturally to brush against it, following the lines of it from the flowery pattern to the stars around his wrist. "Uh, I- yes?" he asks, because it feels weird. He almost feels like he had to ask for her permission, even if - he's over thirty years old, for God's sake.

His mother smirks again, propping her elbow on the table and staring at him with mischief in her eyes. "So, you ran away from home and got a tattoo".

He blushes, under her gaze, his fingers nervously tracing the lines of the tattoo Rey has inked on his skin. He doesn't know how to explain it to his mother, and he doesn't want to hurt her and tell her he got the tattoo to cover up his scars, so he presses his lips together and tries to give her a small smile. "I guess that's not what you expected from me".

But his mother surprises him, as always. She laughs, free and easy, and shakes her head, her eyes shining a little bit in the sun-lighted kitchen. "Honestly, Ben," she says, speaking his name as if it had been just a day from the last time she had uttered it. It has been more than ten years, though. "That's _the least_ I expected from someone who came out of me and Han. It's a miracle you're not a deranged lunatic or, you know, in prison".

He tries to smile too, lowering his eyes to stare at the mug in front of him, because the way she is staring at him - soft and gentle and amused by this conversation - is almost too much, and it pulls him back to a past he had tried to forget. A past he had tried to kill, through pain and blood - but instead, it's still there, in his mother's eyes, and he realizes he can't erase it, no matter how hard he tries.

It almost breaks his heart.   
  
Last time he had been here, he had broken hers. He had destroyed her life into pieces, and had run away from it, too scared to face his mistakes, too scared of his own rage and fury and darkness - of what he was capable of. He had fled, as cowardly as ever, not even daring to cast a glance behind.  
  
It's time to fix his own mess.  
  
"I'm sorry," he says, staring at the mug, his fingers sliding against the border, following its circled shape. He can hear his mother's breath, even and calming - the light at the end of a terrifying tunnel, the one that brought him back to Earth when he was panicking, as a child. "That's what I came to say. I don't have a speech prepared, you know I can't do that. But I want you to know that I am sorry. For everything".  
  
She sighs, an exhausted sound that resonates within his body, making him shiver. The silence seems alive, around them, crackling with expectations and memories, and there are tears in his eyes, but he tries his best not to fall apart, as he has done for the past year, pulling himself together piece by piece. He takes a sip of his coffee, and the warmth of it clears his head a little bit.   
  
"I know you are, Ben," his mother says, and there's something in her voice he hasn't heard in a long time - forgiveness. That word scares him half to death, and he feels like choking, ground ripped beneath his feet, Earth swallowing him whole. But, it's okay. Surprisingly, it's okay - because he was expecting it. It doesn't hit him in one blow, it's more like a thought coming into conscience, a bruise slowly blooming underneath his skin. "I missed you so much".  
  
Her voice wavers just a little bit, but it's like hearing a wrong note in a familiar melody - it feels weird and out of place, but, he supposes, his mother is not the invincible, unbreakable warrior he remembers from  his childhood. He has done this, after all. He has broken her, over the years and he can't expect things to be just how he left them, a decade ago.  

"I missed you too," he says, still looking at the cup between his hands, because it feels easier like this. Because, his mother won't see his tears like this, and he won't see hers and they won't have to talk about it. It's always been this way in this family - awkwardly dancing around their feelings until they exploded. "I'm sorry I took so long. I just- I couldn't come home".  
  
He can already feel his voice break, as he utters the next words.

"I just couldn't face it, after everything I've done to you," he says, his hands coming to grip the mug almost too thigh, as if it was the only thing that kept him from falling apart. "I am so, so sorry".  
  
He knows he's shivering, trying to keep it all inside, and he almost loses it when he feels warm fingers curve around his wrist. His mother's hand is small and fragile-looking, spots and lines and old age that weren't there before marking her skin, but her grip is as strong as ever, holding onto him like he's her only handhold on the whole universe.

"It's okay, Ben," she says, sweetly, and her thumb strokes the back of his hand in a calming gesture. "I know you are sorry. It's okay, honey".  
  
But it's not - it will never quite be okay. There will always be shadows and regrets and hands full of blood and scars and wrecked cars, and it will never be okay, not entirely, and he doesn't know how to live with it. He feels like a kid again, running up to her and asking him if his father had left them - had left _him_ \- forever. _Will he come back_ , he used to ask. _Will he come back?_ _Come back, dada. Come back._  
  
"It's my fault," he tells her, staring at her forgiving fingers around his wrist, and feeling undeserving.

He remembers Rey, propped on her elbow, looking down at him with immense fondness in her eyes, telling him it was not about deserving it, but accepting it - but how can he accept it, when he can't even accept what has happened? How can he be forgiven, if he can't forgive himself?

"Everything that happened. It's my fault. I have fucked everything up and I- I don't deserve this".  
  
But his mother keeps on stroking his skin, tracing circles against the back of his hand, just like she did when he was just a scared little kid and it feels like not a day has passed, but instead, it did.

"Oh, honey," she says, and it's so sweet it makes him want to cry and run into her arms, and hide there for the rest of his life. It reminds him of her embrace, of forehead kisses and warm smiles, and bright eyes as she reassured him and joked with him, a privilege he didn't know he was granted until he had lost it. "Let me be the judge of that, okay? Don't do this to yourself".  
  
Ben shakes his head, in a desperate attempt to keep the tears at bay.

"How can you stand it?" he asks, and it comes off so desperate, so pained it doesn't even matter how hard he's trying not to cry, because he's already falling apart, and his mother knows. She knows him like the back of her hand, and she keeps on stroking his skin with slow, circular movements. "Knowing that it was my fault dad died, and telling me it's okay? How can you even bear to look at me?"

There's a moment of silence, before she speaks again, and he breathes heavily, the weight of it settling on his shoulders.  
  
"Ben, honey, please," her voice is as broken as his, and there's a sort of desperation creeping in her - the same fear, Ben realizes, she always had, in the back of her eyes, when he went off and he retreated in his panicked, fevered mind and slammed his fists against the walls. The fear of not reaching him, of not pulling him back. Of losing him forever to his dark side. "Don't do this. Don't punish yourself".  
  
How can she not see it? He isn't even punishing himself - he's just stating the truth. He remembers Rey's bright hazel eyes, telling him it wasn't his fault - but how can he believe her, or Luke, or his mother, when his mind keeps whispering him awful things?

How do you kill it?

He has tried - through pain and isolation and blood, but it hasn't worked. It never worked , it just made him more miserable.  
  
"It is my fault," he says, and he finally rises his eyes to look at his mother. She's staring at him, with eyes full of tears and lips pressed together, and she looks so tired and pained and - _exhausted_. His heart can't take it. "It's my fault dad died. He was coming to see me. He died because of me".  
  
Her face curves into a small, tired smile, and her fingers tighten around his wrist. His hand starts to become numb, but he welcomes that sort of pain, like beckoning an old friend.

"Honey, no," her voice is warm, and tender, unlike the steely grip of her fingers. It feels almost like a caress. "I asked him to. That night, I asked him to drive to you . If it's your fault, then it's mine too".  
  
There's a moment of silence, as Ben tries to wrap his mind around those words. His mother looks at him, and there are tears slowly falling on her face - she's broken and tired, but she also looks so strong and real and impossible to really break completely, and Ben wishes it were true. He wishes it so much, because that would mean that no matter how much he has fucked up and left his mark, she's still - Leia, she's still Leia.  

"But we can't think like that," she adds, sweet and gentle and calming, her voice even and steady, the light that has always brought him home through everything. _Focus on my voice_ , she used to say. He does. "Your father died in an accident. No one could have predicted that".  
  
He tries to nod, but he doesn't actually know if he manages. He feels disconnected from his own body, as if he was trapped in a remote corner of his mind, watching the scene from afar. His limbs feel numb and far away, and he notices the first tears only when they fall on the table, marking the wooden surface.

"I just," he tries to say, and his voice wavers. He has to bite back a sob, before he can talk again. "I miss him so much, mum".  
  
And then, he breaks.  
  
He finally falls apart, sobs breaking open his chest, clawing their way out of his throat, splitting his lips, tearing him apart. It's a messy, awful affair. He takes his face in his hands, shivering, and he cries, he cries, he cries, it feels like he never stops crying these days. It feels like he's finally allowing himself to cry, after all this time. He hasn't cried when Luke called him to tell him about the accident. He hasn't cried when the doctors sew him anew. He hasn't cried when he missed his father's funeral.

But he cries now, in the kitchen from his childhood, in front of his mother, under the gentle rays of sun stepping through the window.  
  
He hears the rattling of a chair against the floor, and then his mother is next to him, holding him, hugging him right to her. Her arms are almost too small to wrap around his shoulders now, but she's stubborn and she's Leia and it doesn't even matter anymore. She strokes his hair, and then one hand comes on his back, rubbing it gently, tracing circular patterns along his clothed skin, the way she did when he was a child. Things are quite different now, but Ben lets her do it anyway, sobbing in her shoulder, and she holds him close, not saying anything, but comforting him with her presence.  
  
"I miss him so much," he repeats, against her cardigan, and she holds him closer, carding her fingers through his hair.

It feels like a thousand glass shards are piercing his heart, and the sting, the pain of it is almost unbearable. He sobs into her shoulder, and he lets all of it go - the fear, the pain, the rage, the regret. Everything he has kept inside for the last year, washed away by his tears.   
  
"I know, honey," she says, pressing kisses on his forehead, trying to console him. "I know. It's okay to miss him, sweetheart. It's okay".  
  
How can something like this be ever okay? It feels like choking, like all the air in the world has been sucked out. It feels like nothing makes sense anymore, except for the awareness of it - the notion of having to live through it, for the rest of his life. A phantom pain that keeps him awake at night, cursing a limb he has already lost. How can this be okay? How can anyone accept it?  
  
"I am so sorry," he manages to utter, against her shoulder. His mother doesn't stop stroking his back and his hair, trying to soothe him. He sobs, chest open and broken, his ribs like knifes, digging into his heart. "I didn't even get to tell him I was sorry. For everything. The last thing I ever did to him was break his nose and I-".  
  
He sobs again, the weight of it too terrible to bear it on his shoulders. He has lived with pain and regrets for years and years, but this kind of pain feels different and terrifying, and he feels just like a frightening child, waking from a nightmare, missing the last step on a ladder, losing himself in the dark. It's a second of pure panic, played on repeat in his mind.   
  
"Oh, honey," his mother says, pressing a kiss to his forehead, gently. Her arms are wrapped around him, pulling him close even if he's become too big for her embrace. It doesn't matter, Ben thinks, when he still feels like a child. "Your father had forgiven you a long time ago, Ben".  
  
He doesn't understand that - he can't understand that. It's been over ten years and his mind can't make him forget it for a single minute, let alone think about forgiveness.

"How?" he asks, and he feels like a child, asking a simple explanation in a world of complicated matters.  
  
His mother kisses his forehead again, warm and affectionate and familiar. "Because he loved you".  
  
She makes it all sound so simple - love. But he doesn't remember what that love feels like, when it's not haunted by regrets and bloodied memories - he thinks about Rey, and the way she had cried into his neck, telling him he couldn't disappear. He has hurt her too, even if he didn't mean to, just because he wanted to protect her from him. That's just who he is, maybe, and he can't phantom the idea of a love so pure and simple, and he aches for it. He wants to build something like that for himself.  
  
The realization makes him shiver.  
  
"I punched him," he repeats, over and over again, like a lullaby between his thoughts, a punishment from his own mind. He can hear his mother stifle a sad, teary laughter against his skin.  
  
"And do you think it made a difference for him?" she says, so easily, stroking his hair just like she did when she used to put him to bed, when he was a kid. "He loved you. He wasn't great at expressing it and he screwed up more times than he'd liked to admit," at that, Ben laughs, tiredly, against her shoulder, because, yes, it's very true. "But he did. He felt guilty over what happened, too, Ben".  
  
His mind can't wrap itself around it - around the idea of his father loving him so much it didn't even matter what Ben had done to him.

He thinks about the Han he remembers from his childhood - the half smirk on his face, the way he messed up his hair, the way he called him his boy, his back turned on him as he left after another fight with Leia, and his smile when he came back, picking him up and covering him in kisses. And then images of the last time he ever saw him flash before his eyes - the look of pure shock on his bloodied face, and the regret behind his eyes, his mouth hanging open, as if he was on the cusp of saying something.

He wishes things hadn't turned out so awful. He wishes his mind had been quieter. He wishes his father were here, hearing his apology and mocking him, in the way he knew made Ben tense and flare up. He would accept it, now. He would brush it off. He would laugh about it.  
  
He would do anything, just so he could start again. Get it right, this time. Telling him he loved him. Saying sorry. Being someone who could be loved, for a change.  
  
"I just don't understand," he says, pulling away from his mother. Her cardigan is wet from all his tears, but she doesn't seem to mind - she caresses his face, gentleness pouring from her touch. Her eyes speak of grace and absolution, and he feels his heart on fire. "Forgiveness. And love. I don't think I deserve any of it"  
  
She smiles again, softly this time. It's not happy, but it's not said either - it's something bordering between the two of them, walking on that thin line. It makes his stomach clench, but he tries not to look away.  
  
Her hand on his face is warm, and as light as a feather, but as strong as iron.

"Let the others decide for themselves," she says, looking him in the eyes, so big and full of things he never thought he could have again. Love. Warmth. Family. "I love you, Ben. Nothing can change that, not even you".  
  
He nods. He still can't understand it but he supposes it will take time - he didn't expect to walk here and be okay or miraculously fixed. It will take time, and he will have to actually allow himself to be okay - to heal, to live, to learn how to breathe.   
  
It will take a long time, he thinks, but he's willing to work on that.   
  
For the first time, he will do something for himself.  
  
"Do you want to take a walk? I think I need a bit of fresh air," he asks his mother, rising his eyes again. The setting sun casts shadows on her face, making her look like a painting, and he tries to smile up at her, even if it hurts.  
  
She laughs, throwing her head back. "God, yes".

*

"So," Rey says, over the phone, her voice hesitant and unsure, as if she was afraid of something, which is definitely weird, because Rey seems so confident and sure of herself, and utterly and ridiculously brave. But he gets it - after everything, she's afraid he will shut her out again, and Ben's heart breaks at the thought, because she doesn't deserve this kind of ache. "How is it going?"

He's quick to reply, hoping this could mend the wound he has stupidly opened in her heart. "Fine, I think," he says, falling back on his bed, his legs dangling out of it because he's grown a lot since his teenager years. "It's weird, it feels like I'm in the past again. It's like I've open the door and I travelled back in time".

Rey hums on the other side of the phone, and the sound is almost too sweet for his ears. He can imagine her, sitting cross legged on her bed, her hair tied up in a bun, and her back against the pillow, as she stares intently at the ceiling, and the idea of it is almost heartbreaking. It's been barely a day and he already misses her. "Is it bad?" she asks, gently. It's a whisper, but he can hear her above anything else, and it's almost soothing.

"No, not bad," he replies, thinking about his mother and the way she looks at him, her eyes shining with tears and love, and it feels overwhelming, but not bad. Just - weird. For years he had thought he had lost that, and now he has to get used to it, again. It will take time, he keeps repeating to himself, because a part of his mind - the part that screams and makes his chest heavy, his breath short - wants him to be okay _now._ It will take time. "It's just, weird, you know? But it's going well, I think. Well, better than I expected, at least. I- I actually missed this. I missed my mother".

He can hear her smile even over the phone, and he kind of wishes he were there to see her lips curve upwards, and the dimples appear on her cheeks.

"I'm happy you are doing okay, Ben," she says, so sweetly, as if it was the only thing she wanted in life - him to be okay. He still feels unworthy of it, because of course he does, but she hums again, that little content sound he knows so well, and it chases away everything else from his mind. "You are so brave".

He lets out a little self-deprecating laugh. "I can assure you I am no-"

"You are," she interrupts him, fierce and determinate and stubborn as usual, her words almost intense even over the phone. "You are doing this for yourself and you're doing your best and I am proud of you, you understand me? I am proud of you".

It feels overwhelming to hear her say that. He still doesn't know what it means to make someone proud and he wonders if he will ever know, but the way she says it - so sure of it, intensity dripping from her words - makes him ache for it, and he sighs, rolling over in the bed almost as if he wanted to curl around her small frame. "God, I miss you," he replies, stretching out his hand and finding only an empty bed beside him.

"It's been just a day," she says, chuckling, but he can hear the way she sighs too, almost as if she had done the same - patted her bed searching for him, and finding only empty sheets. "You need this, Ben. Take your time," she adds, and he can hear the way she's trying to keep herself together, as usual - _It's because I had to_ , she had whispered against his chest under the light of the stars -, but her emotions slip past her defenses, and they're raw and powerful and he knows she misses him too.

He hums, closing his eyes. Like this, it almost feels like she's whispering the words right into his ear, pressed against his back, with her arms around his torso to keep him close. "I know," he murmurs, because, despite everything, he knows she's right - he needs this. He needs this time to figure out what he wants to do, where he wants to go from now on. But he still misses her. "I'll come back soon, love, I promise".

Rey almost _whimpers_ at the endearment, and oh, how much he misses her - her face, and the way she scrunches up her nose, and her freckles and the way she smiles at him. Her small body pressed against his in her sleep, the way she snores, and clings to him. How has he managed to let her so deeply into his heart and life? He has been so guarded and careful, but somehow she has stepped right through the walls he had built around his heart, and now it feels like his life has been rearranged by her presence, and he can't imagine a day without her.

She tells him goodnight soon after that, and when he hangs up, he feels almost warm, as if she had wrapped a blanket around his shoulder. He feels content and at peace and-

"Hey," his mother steps into his room, smirking down at him, and Ben shots up, sitting upright in his bed and widening his eyes, because how long has she been standing there? What has she heard? It wasn't nothing explicit, it's not light she has caught him-

It's just - embarrassing.

"Relax, I just wanted to say goodnight," she says, and when she closes the door behind her, he can hear her laugh.

To his surprise, his mother manages to not to mention it for two long days, and she waits until halfway through dinner to speak, but he can read on her face - in that small, amused smile on her lips -  she's got something to ask him.  
  
He knows from experience this is not going to go well - he remembers countless other conversations like this, with his mother staring at him with a smirk on her lips, and him stuttering on his words, blushing furiously under her gaze. It makes him feel like a teenager again, and he wishes he had somewhere to hide himself before the embarrassment swallows him whole.  
  
But his wishes are not granted in the slightest.   
  
He's eating his potatoes, when she finally speaks, and she's still smiling at him, her eyes shining with something like mirth.   
  
"So, what's her name?"   
  
Ben almost chokes on his dinner, and it takes him a minute to recover from it, and try to breathe like a normal person. He raises his eyes to look at her, quirking his eyebrows, not quite sure he's getting what she means, but with a vague idea of it, and dreading it.

"What?" he asks, because, well, he's not going to make a fool of himself if he hasn't got to, and because he's still a dumb teenager.  
  
At that, his mother laughs. It's such a honest, real laughter that Ben has to blink for a second, because the surprise is so immense he can feel the tears starting to sting his eyes.

She looks good like this - like all the years and the worries have melted away, leaving her young and hopeful again, and he's surprised to realize he has done this. He has made her laugh, at least for a moment.  
  
"Oh, honey," she says, still smiling. She props her head on her hand, staring at him almost as if she was studying his face and trying to find an answer in the way he blushes under her gaze. "I heard you talking on the phone these days, you know. I'm not deaf".  
  
His blush becomes deeper, and he can feel his skin tingle and burn, as he remembers the endless moments he has spent on the phone with Rey, over this past two days - him reassuring Rey everything was fine, that he was fine, and her smiling over the phone, in his ear, almost soothing him, and him promising her it was going to be okay, that he was going to come back. It wasn't nothing really compromising, but the fact that his mother knows is still embarrassing and he wants to disappear.

"Now, I don't doubt you have made friends in Naboo," she starts, looking at him with her shining eyes, the same smile on her face.  
  
"I have made friends" he replies, because he wants to put off that conversation, but also because it's half true, anyway.

He thinks about Poe, Finn and even Rose and he doesn't know if they're actually friends, but - they're something. Something he never thought he could ever have. Something different from Hux and Snoke and their piercing looks. They're almost - almost home, in the quiet way Naboo has gotten under his skin.  
  
His mother smirks again.  
  
"I know, honey. But you seemed a little bit too sweet on the phone, so," she says, smiling mischievously and staring at him and taking in the way he blushes and averts his eyes. "What's her name?"

That's a thing he never imagined him mentioning or talking about, not with his mother. He doesn't even know what he expected this whole thing - him returning to her, staying with her for a while, figuring out what he wants to be - to turn out, but he surely didn't imagine they would be talking about his love life.  
  
He isn't sure he's ready to share it with his mother - but then, he catches her glance. It's not just playful and amused, not entirely - there's something behind it that makes him shiver, something that seems like happiness and hope and joy. She isn't asking about it to be nosy or because she wants to pry into his life - she's asking because she's happy for him, and he almost can't bear it.  
  
It's always difficult to accept it. A voice in his mind keeps on telling him he doesn't deserve this, he isn't worthy of her love and happiness and hope, but - he tries. He tries, not because he has to, but because he wants to.  
  
It's not much, maybe. Sometimes it still feels overwhelming, that forgiveness. Sometimes, he still lies awake at night, in his own childhood bedroom, thinking about the things that went wrong, and how much he'd give everything he has to turn back time and take those words, those punches back.   
  
It's not much, but he tries. And maybe, just maybe, it makes all the difference in the world.  
  
"Rey," he says, rising his eyes again to look at his mother, and the way her eyes shine. He realizes just now it's tears, even if she's trying her best to keep them at bay. It startles him to notice how alike they are - steeling themselves until the breaking point, and then trying again, because broken and defeated doesn't mean you can give up. He has walked half the world, crawled his way into this life, to understand that - but his mother always knew, somehow. "Her name is Rey. I think I'm in love with her".  
  
Admitting it is terrifying. He has always known he was in love with her, from the first moment she looked up at him with a surprised expression on her face and her lips pressed together to the last time he has seen her, smiling up at him with tears in her eyes but hope on her face as he slowly drove away - but saying it makes it real. It makes it something that could turn on him, breaking him apart, making a broken mess out of him.  
  
But then he thinks about Rey, splayed on his bed, clinging to him and showering his face and neck with kisses, barely awake but oh, so sweet. He thinks about how good she looked there, in the quiet morning light, as she let him hold her to his chest and draw patterns on her back, making her shiver and laugh against his skin. He thinks about the way she had mocked him, telling him his place was a mess and unfurnished and that he had to fix it. He thinks about her smile, as he leaned up to kiss her, whispering _shut ups_ against her lips, making her giggle.  
  
Maybe it's terrifying, a fear so big it turns his heart into a frightened little creature in his chest, but it's also warm and soothing and comforting, and he loves her, he loves her, he loves her.  
  
His mother smiles so happily it almost burns every other emotion out of his soul. He feels happy and calm for the first time, and seeing her like this - in the living room they have spent so much time in, at the usual table he remembers from his childhood, under the lights he knows by heart - is like a memory from his past, but also something that warms his heart, a balm on his wounds, a shining vision of a future he didn't think he could have.  
  
It feels like a wave, crashing on him, pulling him in, and washing away years and years of loneliness and fear and pain. All of that doesn't just disappear, but - it softens a bit, under his mother's gaze.  
  
"Well, then, she's a lucky girl," she says, pressing her lips together and blinking away the tears in her eyes. He knows far too well how they both have cried too much, in these days, but she's happy and the biggest surprise of them all is that he has made her happy, for once, and the tears threatening to run down her cheeks are not because he destroyed her, but because he put together all the pieces, somehow.   
  
It's breathtaking, but oh, so beautiful - to make someone happy, for a change.  
  
"Mom, we both know I'm the lucky one here," he deadpans, rising his eyebrows, and she laughs, so deeply and carefree it makes his heart tremble in his chest. "I mean, I can't believe how she even puts up with me".  
  
And it's true. Rey is something different, something luminous in his life, and he doesn't understand why she's still there, with him - an awful voice reminding him he's terrible and a monster, and why on earth should she ever like him? -, but, for the first time, it doesn't scare him. She likes him, she wants him, she cares for him and maybe that's it, that's all. Maybe there's no big explanation, no red strings of yarn connecting all the clues - maybe she just likes him for him.  
  
"Well," his mother says, trying to keep herself together somehow. "I can't wait to show her pictures of your emo phase," she adds, and he groans, because, of course she has to remind him of that. Of course. She will never let him forget that, it will always haunt him.  
  
Well, he thinks, as his mother laughs, there are worse things to be haunted by.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come say hi or yell at me on [tumblr](http://kylorensx.tumblr.com/)!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I am so happy for him," she says, because she is, and she needs to say it. "I am really so happy and proud and I know he needs this, but at the same time I just- want him back. How is that possible?"
> 
> Rose smiles, and strokes her shoulder, gently. "Because you love him," she replies, as easy as breathing, and really, it shouldn't surprise her, because Rose has always been like this - like everything around her is a small miracle, and it's only right she loves all of it -, but it does, because love has always been something so foreign to her, something she never thought she could have, and now it's real, and she can't really understand it. "You do love him, don't you? It's okay, Rey".
> 
> Rose reassures her, still stroking her shoulder, and Rey nods, breathing in and out, trying to calm herself. "Yes," she says, in the end, a little smile at the corner of her lips. Rose smiles too, and her smile is almost radiant. "Yes, I do love him. It's," another deep breath, another small smile. "Scary".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't believe we're already at the end of this story and next chapter will be the last, it seems like yesterday I started it and now it's ending, wow. i won't get sappy now (because I probably will next chapter), but, really, I want to thank all of you for sticking with me and reading this story, it really means a lot to me!!
> 
> thank you so much!!

"So," Rey says, wrestling her phone between her head and her shoulder as she tries to put salt on the popcorn. It's a messy affair, and she can hear Finn giggle from the living room while she tries not to drop anything, but she barely casts a glance in his direction, because she has other priorities right now. Ben, for example. "What are you doing tonight?"  
  
Ben smiles over the phone. She can't really see him, of course, but she's become a sort of expert on Ben's sounds, and she can almost hear the way his lips curve upwards, as he lets out a little breath, as if he was trying really hard not to sigh. It's something beautiful and intimate, and she wants to hear it again and again, until every other sound in the world has filtered down to nothing, next to his gentle breath. It's been barely two weeks and she should be better than this, because she's spent her whole life on her own, and never once in her existence she had let people close enough to be missed, but - she can't help it.

Somehow, Ben has found his way into her life, and she can't really be blamed if all she can think about is the fact that she misses the warmth of his body pressed against hers under the sheets, their legs tangled, his arm around her waist, his lips peppering her shoulders in kisses. She misses the routine of it - the way he groggily curls around her, waking up, and the way he smiles when he blinks her in and-

She can't really afford to think like this, she knows it all too well, but she can't help it.

"Well," Ben says, and his voice is deep and sweet and Rey's heart aches because she _misses_ him. She tries not to think about it, focusing only on her task, and on his words. "My mom and her friend, Mrs Holdo, have convinced me to explore the city again because I have missed so much, their words. So they're going to show me around".  
  
She smiles too, because she can't help it, imagining Ben walking with his mother - in her head, she's a lot like Ben, with deep eyes and a warm smile and a sort of crackling intensity around her - all around the city, deep into that crowd of people he seems to hate so much.

"It's nice," she says, and she can hear him groan. "I mean, it's a nice thought. Try to have fun," she teases him, because, well, she can.  
  
He laughs, easy and perfect as always. She thinks about the way his full lips curve upwards when he does, reveling dimples on his cheeks, and his eyes squint, little webs of lines appearing at the corners. The way he runs a hand through his hair, and tries to press his lips together to contain his giggling. If she closes her eyes, she can almost see him.

"Yeah, very funny. It is nice, though, I mean, my mother is being so kind," he says. He sounds almost distracted, and she knows him by now - she can feel the way his mind starts to drift, his thoughts furiously spinning, chasing down the idea of being undeserving, unforgivable, irredeemable. Of being unworthy of a nice gesture, a kind thought. It feels like a ghost, perpetually hanging over him and haunting him, poisoning every positive feeling.

She knows him so well by now, she can almost hear those words as if he was speaking them out loud, but before she can say anything and tell him that whatever he's thinking about himself, it's not true and he deserves everything good and kind, he takes a deep breath and the smile she knows so well is back on his face. Rey is surprised by him, but she says nothing - the moment feels so fragile, a harder push could break it in a million pieces.

"You know," he says. His voice is wavering, and she can feel the enormous effort behind his words, as he's trying to keep himself from voicing those dark thoughts out loud. It makes her heart clench, because he's trying, and that's - beautiful. "I tried to forget about it, but it's very nice here. Full of green. You'd like it".  
  
The way he says it makes her eyes sting, and she has to put down the bowl of popcorns on the kitchen counter before she smashes it on the ground, as her heart hammers so loudly in her chest. He sounds so - _sweet_. Oh, how much she misses him - it feels like someone has carved a hole in her. She has replayed for days that moment in her bedroom - Ben crying into her shoulder, clinging to her, breaking himself apart with guilt - because her mind could not give her anything else, thinking about all the things that could go wrong, but his sweetness now takes her by surprise. She had almost forgot he is so much more than that - so much more than his brokenness and desperation.

He's Ben, and she loves him. Broken and desperate, but also sweet and tender and awkward about it.

"Maybe you could show me around, someday," she says, half jokingly, half not, and she can hear him chuckle on the other side of the phone.

His laugh makes her heart skip a few beats, even if she should be used to it by now. But right now, it feels so tender and intimate, the low sound travelling directly from her ear to her heart, and she misses him and she's reminded of how painfully in love she is with him.  
  
"I'd like to. I could introduce you to my mother, she'd adore you," he replies, and oh, oh, _oh_. Her heart is a frightening little bird again, fluttering against her ribs, trying to break free. It feels so immense and terrifying, but she can hear his sweet smile, and she can almost imagine him, fidgeting with his hands as he sits on his bed, in his childhood room, looking around with soft eyes, as if he could feel her presence beside him. "You know, I've told her about you. I mean, she's, well, my mother, so she knew already, but still".  
  
He wants her to meet his mother. It's terrifying but also beautiful and heart-warming, and right now she wants nothing but hug him, resting her head against his chest only to hear his gentle, furious heartbeat, and lose herself in his arms. He wants her to be a part of his life, permanently. She doesn't know how to process it. Nothing ever felt this real and lasting in her life - it was always just a matter of time, and Rey snatching love and affection and stability wherever she could.  
  
He's offering something more - a certainty. She doesn't know how to wrap her mind around that. She knows nothing lasts in this world, and no relationship is forever, and a part of her mind will always scream, telling her she's a fool for giving him the power to destroy her, but, for the first time, she doesn't care. Maybe it will not be forever - but, it will be for a time, and maybe that's enough.

She's surprised to realize that, really, that's enough for her.

"Well, I'd really like to meet her," she replies, when she trusts herself enough to not to cry over the phone. She can hear him smile, and release a breath she hadn't realize he was holding. He's always so awkward - it makes her eyes sting again, and she misses him more than ever. She tries not to think about it. "Will you show me your room? I bet there's a giant My Chemical Romance poster over the bed".

He chuckles, quietly. "I told you," he replies, warmly, a hint of humor in his voice. It sounds so pleasant, to hear him like this - no trace of guilt or brokenness in his voice, for a change. "I'm not that emo".

Rey snorts. "Do you expect me to believe that?" she asks him, raising her eyebrow, and he chuckles again over the phone. She can almost imagine him, clamping a hand over his mouth, his shoulder shaking as he tries to contain his laughter. Oh, she wishes she could see him right now - it feels like she never gets enough of Ben, smiling and carefree. "I bet you probably fell asleep holding your copy of The Black Parade".

He has to recover a little bit before speaking again. "I can assure you I didn't," he says, between giggles. He doesn't even sound offended, and Rey's heart swells in her chest at the beautiful sound of his laughter. "But I have to admit I did own a copy of The Black Parade. And of Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, too".

Rey throws her head back as she laughs. "Not that emo, uh?"

Ben laughs again. "You got me there," he replies, and right now he would have blushed furiously and she would have pressed a kiss right on his cheek, between giggles. He sighs, before talking again, almost as if that image had travelled to him and he was trying to keep himself together. She wonders if he misses her as acutely as she does. "What are you doing tonight?" he asks her, his tone lighter somehow, trying to sound casual, and she can imagine him, bringing his hand at the base of his neck as he does when he's embarrassed by something.  
  
"We're at Poe's for a movie night, we haven't done this in a while, so we thought, _why not_ ," she replies, smiling, happy to have something to talk about. The fact that he's away and she can't smother his face with kisses is really wearing her down, right now. He hums at her words, and Rey smiles again. "We're going to watch Sharknado".  
  
There's a brief silence, and she can almost hear him frown, the wrinkle she loves so much making its way on his forehead. "Why on earth would you watch that?" he asks. He sounds almost offended, as if the whole concept of watching Sharknado was a personal insult to him. "You know there are easier and quicker ways to slip into a coma, right?"  
  
Rey giggles, throwing her head back as he laughs too. "It's Poe, he loves terrible movies".  
  
"Hey, they're not terrible," Poe pops in the kitchen, staring at her with an equally offended expression. _Boys_ , she thinks, shaking her head. "They're so bad and painful to watch that they transcend human criteria and turn into art".  
  
Then, without saying another word, he grabs the bowl of popcorn Rey has been trying to pour salt over for the last ten minutes, proceeds to salt them and then heads out as quick as he has appeared.  
  
"Thanks for the popcorn, kid. Or, thanks for trying," he says, smirking, and Rey knows she's blushing. "We're waiting for you," he adds, and then he disappears into the living room again.  
  
"Yeah, I'm coming," she yells after him, and then she finally grabs the phone from her shoulder, wincing at the stiffness of her muscle. She hears Ben laugh, quietly. "Sorry, Poe's very passionate about that, apparently," she says, and Ben laughs again, deeply this time. She thinks about the wrinkles around his eyes, and the laughter lines around his mouth - so rare, so precious, because he probably hasn't smiled in years.  
  
Oh, how she aches to follow those lines with her fingers and lips, trailing kisses against his skin, studying and mapping them to bring them on paper.  
  
"I heard," he chuckles, trying to stifle a laugh. Rey can feel the corner of her mouth lift up of their own accord and she feels - warm. Happy. Dizzy and lightheaded just because he's laughing like it's something natural. It's something trivial and normal, but to her, it's the most incredible thing in the whole world. "Just tell him there's involuntary masterpiece and then there's pure, utter trash".  
  
Rey giggles too, again, unable to help herself - she imagines him there, talking with Poe about it, laughing and giggling and shaking their heads, deeply offended by each other's taste in movies.   
  
"Tell him that yourself when you come back, I don't want to risk my life for your opinion on movies," she says, lightly and she can hear him giggle again, before someone on the other side of the phone call his name. It's a woman's voice, kind and firm, and she realizes it must be his mother. Ben sighs and says something, and Rey smiles, because he sounds just like a petulant child, and she wants to hug him and laugh against his chest. "You must go, right?"

Ben sighs again. "Sadly," he replies, as if the idea of saying goodbye was almost too painful. It's the same for her, but she tries not to show it - after all, he needs this. He needs time with his mother, he needs to know what he wants to do with his life, where he wants to go from this. He needs time to put himself back together, and she can't take this away from him, no matter how much she misses or how badly she wants him back.

She has spent her whole life waiting. She can endure a little bit more.

"Shut up, you emo," she tells him, trying to smile. She doesn't want to say goodbye, because of course love-starved Rey doesn't want to, but she does anyway, because it's the right thing to do, and because she is still so used to keep herself together that she doesn't still know how to let go. "You have a good night, okay? Try to have fun. For real, though, don't be your usual gloomy self".  
  
He chuckles, quietly - the sound so soft it makes her heart swell.

"I will try," he replies, half joking, the amused little smile on his lips - the one she knows so well - so easy to hear in his voice. Then, he sighs, and his mood shifts a little bit. "I feel- I don't know, like I _am_ trying, for the first time," he stays quiet for a moment, before he chuckles again, awkwardly this time. "Sorry, that was kind of cheesy".  
  
She shakes her head, even if Ben can't see her right now. Tears are stinging her eyes again, but somehow they don't burn as much - they're happy tears, leaving something behind. Something that feels like warmth. "No, it wasn't. It's beautiful. I'm really proud of you, Ben".  
  
He inhales, deeply, almost shaken, and Rey wants to wrap herself around him and pepper his face, his neck, his chest with kisses, telling him how happy she is for him, what a pride the Earth must feel, for having created something as wonderful and beautiful and impossible as him.   
  
He doesn't protest. She almost expected him to, but he doesn't, and that shakes her more than she can put in words, but it's - nice. It's definitely nice. "Thank you," he says, in the end, and his voice is a bit cracked, but in a good way, somehow. "I'll see you soon, love".  
  
The sweetness of all of it - of his tone, of the endearment, of the quiet way he whispers kind words to her ear - makes her tremble.

"I know," she says, and, for the first time, she does know. She knows they will see each other soon, she knows he will come back. The distance isn't tearing her apart as much as it would have done months ago - somehow, it's making her stronger. Even if she misses him almost as a severed limb, it's not so painful. "But take your time, okay? You need this, Ben".  
  
His lips curve again in a smile, as he breathes into the phone.

"Yes, but I do miss you," he admits, blunt as always. It still amazes her - how he can stumble on the little things, stuttering his words and blushing furiously, and then saying things like that without even flinching. It feels like his words are weapons, but the touch of his love is kind against her battered heart, like a butter knife.  
  
"I will be here," she reminds him. She's there, waiting for him. She knows all about waiting, she thinks, but for the first time it doesn't feel as terrible as it used to - maybe because she knows it will end.   
  
She ends the call, placing her phone on the kitchen counter, and she grips the surface to the point her knuckles become white, as she tries to breathe, deeply. She can still hear his laugh, and his gentle breath, and the surprise in his voice when she has told him she's proud of him. If she closes her eyes, she can pretend he's there beside her for a moment, but it would be pointless, because he isn't, and even if she knows he will be back, she misses him and she can't do anything about that.

She isn't used to this feeling - this kind of emptiness hanging around her. She hadn't realize her life had been so _full_ , with Ben in it.

"Rey?" Rose's voice startles her, and she turns into her direction, trying to keep herself together and not betray anything. She doesn't want to look this pathetic, not because he's been sweet and soft and gentle over the phone and she wants him here so she can wrap her arms around him and never let him go. That's _pathetic_. "We're waiting for yo- are you okay?"

She tries to breathe again, as Rose makes her way to her, attentive and watchful eyes fixed on her face, as if she could study her. "Is this about Ben? Did something happen?"

Rey quickly shakes her head, even if she doesn't know how to explain it. She has spent her whole life burying her feelings deep within her, and they have become a tangled mess over the years, and now she doesn't know how to solve all of this. She's not even sure she can. "No, everything's fine," she replies, and then presses her lips together. "It's just-"

Miraculously, Rose understands.

"Rey, you're allowed to miss him," she says, gently, bringing a hand to her shoulder. She's shorter than her, so Rey has to lower her gaze a little bit to look her in the eyes, but she doesn't mind, because it gives her a moment to blink away the tears. Rose's touch is gentle, and her eyes are warm, and all of this reminds Rey why she likes her so much - she's kind, and observing, but silent, and she doesn't try to push her. "He's your boyfriend. It's okay if you do. Hell, I think it's more than fair".

_You're allowed to miss him_ , Rose says, and it resonates within her, because she never allowed herself such a luxury. She couldn't afford to - she could not miss people, because otherwise she would have fallen apart. She hasn't even allowed herself to miss her parents - she only thinks about them at night, when the walls around her heart are not guarded, and she feels vulnerable.

But now, she's missing Ben, she's allowing herself to miss Ben, and it's terrifying, giving another person so much power over you, but - it feels good too. She hates this feeling of emptiness, but she's granting herself the luxury to feel it, and it's new and frightening, but also _good_ , she supposes. It means she's finally letting her past go.

"I am so happy for him," she says, because she is, and she needs to say it. "I am really so happy and proud and I know he needs this, but at the same time I just- want him back. How is that possible?"

Rose smiles, and strokes her shoulder, gently. "Because you love him," she replies, as easy as breathing, and really, it shouldn't surprise her, because Rose has always been like this - like everything around her is a small miracle, and it's only right she loves all of it -, but it does, because love has always been something so foreign to her, something she never thought she could have, and now it's real, and she can't really understand it. "You do love him, don't you? It's okay, Rey".

Rose reassures her, still stroking her shoulder, and Rey nods, breathing in and out, trying to calm herself. "Yes," she says, in the end, a little smile at the corner of her lips. Rose smiles too, and her smile is almost radiant. "Yes, I do love him. It's," another deep breath, another small smile. "Scary".

"Of course it is, that's the beauty of all of it," Rose replies, patting her shoulder. Her hands falls away, but her smile stays. "He will be back, Rey. He's, like, head over heels in love with you. Trust me, I've spent the last year of my life witnessing Finn and Poe lovingly gazing at each other, I think I know when I see a man in love".

At that, Rey laughs, and the act melts away all the tension in her body. It feels almost natural to say that yes, she loves Ben, she loves him and she's okay about it, frightening as it is. "Come on," she says, patting Rose's shoulder, with a little smile. "I'm sure I kept them waiting long enough".

Rose chuckles. "Well, I'm sure Finn won't mind it".

They walk in the living room, where Poe and Finn are splayed on one couch, cuddling, effectively not minding the fact that they're supposed to be watching a movie right now. Rose sits on the other couch and BB8 immediately jumps on it, happily curling in her lap as she pets him (much to nobody's surprise, BB8 adores Rose, and every time she's there, he jumps on her lap and lets her pet him all night. Rey suspect he's in love).  
  
"Finally!" Finn exclaims, when he notice them, pretending to be exasperated, but there's a hint of a smile behind his words. "I couldn't wait to watch this masterpiece of international cinema. Seriously," he turns to face Poe, who's currently half on his lap, nuzzling his neck, looking completely unbothered by the fact that Rey and Rose are there. "Why are we even watching it? Do you hate us? Are you secretly plotting to kill us all?"  
  
"It's art," Poe replies, without even moving, just nuzzling his nose right against Finn's neck.  
  
Rey flops down next to Rose on the couch, stretching out her hand to pet BB8. The little corgi turns into her direction with eager eyes, sticking out his tongue. Thinking how it was his doing that brought her and Ben together, she supposes she has to thank him somehow.

"Ben says Sharknado sucks," she deadpans, but then smirks at Poe, who pulls away from Finn just to look deeply offended, bringing a hand on his chest as if she had just driven a knife right into his heart.  
  
"I agree with him," Rose says, taking a handful of popcorn from the bowl and shoving it into her mouth with far more grace that necessary.   
  
"Well," Poe replies. "Tell your boyfriend that when he comes back I'm going to make him change his mind".  
  
Rey laughs, shaking her head. "Not a chance," she replies, thinking about Ben's offended tone as she told him she was going to watch Sharknado. "When he comes back, I'm going to protect him from your movie nights".  
  
It feels so easy to say it - when he comes back, when he comes back, _when he comes back_ -, as if the words were natural on her lips. But they're not - nobody ever came back for her, and hopelessly waiting had become a habit of hers over the years, ingrained in her brain, etched on her bones. She remembers staring out of the windows in the orphanage, hoping to catch a glimpse of her parents coming back to pick her up and take her away from that hell.  
  
But nobody ever came back.   
  
It feels weird - to know someone is going to come back for her. It feels weird, but it also grounds her, giving her a surety she didn't know she needed until he had shown up in her life, trembling hands and hesitant smile, and a frown she ached to erase from his face. It's a pleasant sensation, and it makes her feel stable and sure of everything that's going to come, and she can finally breathe, for the first time in her life.  
  
"It's a miracle nobody hasn't stopped you yet," Finn tells Poe, but his tone is light and his hand is around Poe's shoulders, pulling him closer with no shame in it, kissing his forehead with tenderness. Rey smiles at their ease around each other - something she thought she could never have.  
  
It's with a jolt that she realizes that kind of ease was impossible for her just because she made it so - up until now, everything she had ever loved had claw marks on it, and she felt like she had to constantly keep an eye on it, for the fear of losing it and everything was too big for anything else. She remembers the first months with Poe - how terrified she was of losing it, of being sent away, of having to leave behind the only thing that ever made her happy.

The fear had settled in her heart, somehow, poisoning almost everything with the urge of control - her work at the studio, her friendship with Finn and Rose, even her relationship with Ben.   
  
But now, he promises to come back, with kind words and a sweet smile, and he's the first to ever tell her that, and his love is like a beacon of light, a lighthouse in the middle of a storm, showing her a safe shore to land on. His love is grounding, and it makes her feel sure of it for the first time in her life, and the distance and the days are nothing, compared to the quiet certainty she feels in her heart.  
  
He's going to come back, and she isn't afraid of letting him go anymore.   
  
"It's not my fault you all have terrible tastes in movies" Poe says, bringing her back to reality, before pressing play and starting the movie. Finn groans almost immediately.  
  
"This death isn't realistic," he says, frowning, as he strokes Poe's back. Poe hums, but doesn't reply.  
  
"Yes, that's exactly the most unrealistic part here," Rose says, shoving another handful of popcorn in her mouth. "Not the fucking shark tornado".  
  
Rey just smiles, petting BB8, and enjoying her friends' company, letting herself feel the warmth and the happiness of it. She lets the situation slip out of her control for the first time, letting go of all of it - the fear, the panic, even the anger. She breathes in, and out, and she smiles, as she realizes she's free.  
  
It will take time, of course - not everything is going to be magically fixed in a span of a week or more, but it's a starting point, she thinks.  
  
And it's good.

*

Luke corners her as she's heading towards The Resistance, as usual, and hands her a cup of something that definitely isn't coffee, staring at her with his cutting light blue eyes and a knowing smile.  
  
Automatically, she stretches out her hand and her fingers curve around the cup, while she frowns in confusion, staring at Luke almost as if all the answers were written on his face. "What is this?"   
  
Luke chuckles, and then takes a sip out of his cup of something.

"Tea," he says, shrugging as Rey raises her eyebrows, not quite sure she's following him. "You drink too much coffee" he adds, staring at her with a little smile.  
  
"Hey, it's not-"  
  
"Rey," he interrupts her, giving her a telling look. She blushes and immediately stops talking, because, well, maybe it's a little bit true. She doesn't remember a day in which she has gone without caffeine. "You and my nephew are addicts. Every time I see the two of you, you are drinking insane quantity of it".  
  
She presses her lips together, blushing a little bit as she recalls all the times her and Ben have walked out of The Resistance with coffee in their hands, even before they started dating. Maybe Luke isn't entirely wrong. She takes a sip of her tea, still hot in her hand.

"You didn't have to, anyway," she says, blushing again under Luke's knowing eyes, because it makes her feel like a child. She likes Luke, she really does, but she's not sure she can really understand him right now.  
  
He smiles, and then stretches out his hand to pat her arm. It's an affectionate gesture, and it leaves Rey almost surprised, but not really - everything feels warmer and like home, since she has allowed herself to really feel it. She's trying not to shut herself out of the world, and she's surprised to realize how nicer it feels, to be there, and let herself feel everything around her. "Please," he says, smirking up at her. "You're basically family now".  
  
At that, Rey goes red, and her mind stops working for good. She stares at Luke, and he stares back with a grin so big and uncharacteristic that it's almost weird, but in a good way. _You're basically family_ , he says, and Rey can feel herself burn under his gaze, reaching a red hue no one has probably ever reached, and her eyes sting a bit, even if she pretends not to care.  
  
It's just - _family_. She has spent so many years chasing down the idea of it, desperate for any scrap of love she could snatch from anyone - always hungry, always starved for it, never quite sated from what she got, despair clinging to her and nestling itself in her ribcage, a voice telling her _You are not good enough, the people you love will always leave you behind._ She didn't know how to make that voice disappear.  
  
"I- I don't-" she tries to say, but the words seem stuck in her throat, tied together with her impossible, starved heart. "Thank you," she says, in the end, smiling at Luke, who is currently looking at her with a quiet sort of joy in his eyes.  
  
"Don't mention it, kid".  
  
Family.   
  
It feels impossible - a dream taken out of her childhood, made of hopelessness and desperation. But instead, it's true. It's Luke, smiling at her as he hands her a cup of tea just because he's worried she drinks too much coffee. It's Poe, forcing all of them to watch a terrible movie just because he knows she needed something like that to keep her mind off her thoughts. It's Finn's gentle smile as he reassures her everything is going to be okay, and that she has nothing to worry about. It's Rose's exasperated expression as Finn and Poe make out on the counter, making her groan and ask Rey for help.  
  
It's Ben, calling her love, looking at her as if she made the universe turn and shine, and promising her to come back.   
  
Family.

She doesn't know how she has managed to build something like this for herself, but there's a warmth spreading through her bones, and she doesn't question it anymore.  
  
"Do you fancy a walk?" Luke asks her, as they silently drink their tea. Rey nods, and they start to walk down the street, no destination in their mind as they slowly make their way between shops and trees.  
  
The days are getting warmer, and she doesn't feel the need to brace herself for the cold anymore. The sun shines kindly on them, and the first flowers are beginning to bloom, little pink spots  of color between the deep brown of the trees and the bright blue of the sky. It's beautiful - the way spring bursts through Naboo, making a colorful, delicate masterpiece out of it. Before she came here, she had never known spring could be so beautiful.   
  
"Rey," Luke calls her, as they walk side by side. She turns into his direction, a small smile on her lips because she can't help it, and Luke smiles too, softly, in the way that reminds her of Ben. It feels fragile, and tentative, and Rey realizes how alike they are, even if they look so different. "I wanted to thank you".  
  
She frowns again, even if she doesn't lose her smile, looking at Luke in search for answers.

"Thank me?" she repeats, tasting the words on her tongue. It always feels like a novelty, when someone thanks her, and even if she has spent a lot of time with Poe and Finn and Rose, away from the nightmare that was Jakku, she still isn't used to the sensation.   
  
"Yes. For being there for Ben when he needed it," Luke says, quietly and seriously, looking at her like she has performed some impossible task. "You might have noticed at the beginning, when he first moved here, but he was - very different. I felt like I couldn't reach him at all".  
  
She remembers that - Ben, stomping his way to the shop, looking at her in silence, not a word uttered, almost jittery and skittish, as if she could somehow hurt him. And maybe, thinking about it, she could have - he was so fragile and delicate, a little bird who was just learning how to fly, and anything could have crushed him. He had fresh scars on his skin, and a broken heart, and she could have torn him into pieces, maybe.  
  
But now - now, he shines. He smiles, so softly and gently it makes her heart twist and ache in her chest, and he doesn't look as fragile anymore - he looks like something that has been broken before, but then life and love have poured gold in his cracks, making him whole again.  
  
"He did it all by himself," Rey says, taking a sip of her tea as her heart pounds in her chest, thinking about him, and the way he laughs, freely. She remembers that first day in the studio, months ago - the intensity of his gaze, the frown on his face, the way he had stomped out of the door. The sheer and utter brokenness he radiated. It feels so long ago, right now - she knows he's not fixed, there's no way to fix a person. But he's granting himself the possibility to heal, and maybe he's not miraculously better, but to Rey, it makes all the difference in the world. "I was there but- it's his doing. He allowed himself to heal".  
  
Luke smiles again, softly, and his eyes are even gentler, somehow. "I know," he replies, as they make their way down the street. "And I am so proud of him," he says it with a wavering voice, and Rey knows it means a lot to him - it means a lot to Ben too, she thinks as she recalls the way he's taken aback everytime she tells him she's proud of him. There's a lot of history behind those words, and maybe she will never know the half of it, but all of this feels important. "And I know that maybe a lot of factors have helped but- you were there when he needed it. So, thank you".  
  
She can't imagine why Luke would ever thank her - all she has done is falling in love with Ben, staring at him like, after all these years and suffering, she has finally made it home. But she can understand him - Ben has helped her, in his own quiet way, making her realize how desperately she was holding onto things that weren't going to disappear on her, making her accept her vulnerabilities as a part of her, and helping her letting her defenses down and be loved, for the first time in her life. Maybe, she hopes, she has done something for him too - help him to accept the cracks in his soul.  
  
"He was there too, for me," she says, smiling at the thought. She remembers the beauty of a New Year's Eve spent under the starry sky, and his arm around her as she told him her story, and then she thinks about his body under hers, as she cried into his neck, begging him not to leave her. She remembers the gentleness of all of it, the way his fingertips brushed against her skin, his lips whispering sweet words, telling her he wanted to know her, promising her he wasn't going to leave her. "I love him, Luke. I really do. I will try my best".  
  
Luke pats her arm again, no force in his gesture, but a quiet sort of fondness, one that doesn't need words. Rey chokes up a little bit, hating herself for being so emotional these days, but not really caring about it. _You're allowing yourself to feel_ , she tells herself, _you're allowing yourself to heal, too._

"You don't have to try," he says, smiling up at her. "You are doing good, Rey. Ben is happy, and it's the first time in years I see him actually smile. And I'm really, really glad. And happy".  
  
It's clear that he is - he looks younger, a weight lifted off his shoulders, and his eyes are brighter, less clouded by worries and fears, but full of hope and silent happiness. She remembers, with a jolt, that he must have lived through everything that happened to Ben, and he did found him with glass shards on his skin, curled in his own blood. He took him there, to Naboo, slowly trying to reach him, to pull him away from the wreckage of his mind into the present. It must be a relief to see that Ben is recovering, somehow - she can't even imagine how it must feel like for him.  
  
"I'm happy too," she says, as serious as ever, looking at Luke like she's silently promising him to take care of Ben, again. "I think- I think he can finally let go of all of it".  
  
"Yeah, kid," Luke says, fondness in his voice. "I hope so".  
  
They walk in silence for a while, as the sun warms them up. She's not in her heavy coat anymore, and it feels nice to enjoy a bright, sunny day. There's a light breeze, messing up her hair, but it's tepid, and it's pleasant, and it gently shakes the first buds on the trees. It's something wonderful and delicate, and so different from the deserted landscape she was so used to. It's been years since she escaped, but she can't help but stare in fascination, enthralled by the graceful way the branches swing, lightly, into the wind.  
  
"It's finally getting warmer here, too," Luke says, reading her thought, as she contemplates a blooming cherry tree, its branch, fragile-looking and delicate, covered in buds and flowers. "I have been here for years, but I'm still not used to the fact that winter seems so eternal".  
  
Rey turns into his direction, as she slowly puts the pieces together. "You lived in Chandrila, too" she tells him, and Luke smiles, a little hint of regret in the curve of his lips. He's still staring at the flowers, but she can read his expression anyway and he's - sad, but in a resigned way.   
  
"Yes, I did," he replies, quietly, that sort of resignation clinging to his bones. It doesn't wear him down - the silent happiness still there, in his eyes, somehow -, but it makes him a little bit older. "When Ben got bad, I tried to help him, I really tried. But-" he takes a deep breath, before speaking again. "I think we both were so lost in our ways we couldn't really understand each other. I tried to make him reason, but maybe he didn't need that. He saw that as a sort of betrayal, I think".  
  
There it is, the regret. She can read it so clearly in every line on his face, etched to his bones as he slowly turns into her direction, a tired smile at the corner of his lips. "When he ran away, after everything, I- I left too. I felt useless, and maybe even responsible," he presses his lips together, but then he tries to smile up at her, and there's still a trace of regret in it, but also that quiet happiness in the back of his eyes. "The shop happened by some twist of fate, and here we are, now".  
  
Rey stares a little bit at the blooming tree before her - so delicate, so new in its fragile beauty. It reminds her of Ben. "I am sorry," she says, in the end, turning to face Luke again, stretching out a hand and placing it on his shoulder, a little bit awkwardly. "I really am. It must have been terrible".  
  
Luke smiles, reaching her hand on his shoulder with his, patting her skin gently.

"It was, but, you know," he says, shrugging. She lets her arm fall at her side, as she stares at him. "Maybe if any of that hadn't happened, we wouldn't be here".  
  
Rey frowns a little bit, as she tries to follow his reasoning. "Are you saying that everything happens for a reason?" she asks, raising her eyebrow.  
  
She's not quite sure she can agree with him - it feels heavy, and unbearable, somehow. She can't imagine how what happened in her life can ever have a reason - to her, it all looks like a sequence of terrible things she had no control over. She can't phantom a reason behind that, she can't phantom a reason behind what happened to Ben and his family.  
  
"No, of course not," Luke replies, immediately, looking at her with kind eyes, maybe reading her face all too easily. "Sometimes terrible things happen, and without a reason. But, maybe," his face breaks into a small smile, that has no regret in it, just that sort of quiet happiness that is so Luke. "All of it has brought us here by some sort of happenstance, and maybe it was worth it".  
  
She thinks about it - the hurt, the loneliness, the immensity of the desert that shrank almost to nothing, when compared to her hunger for love and affection. She thinks about the nights in which she begged for sleep, and the days she spent staring out of a window, hoping someone would come for her. She thinks about Ben, his fears and terrors, and the way they have carved a hole in him, cracked his soul, split him open. She thinks about his pain, his suffering, they way he has punished himself over the years, hopelessly trying to atone for sins he didn't commit.   
  
It's - terrible. It's horrible and heartbreaking, and it takes her breath away as she thinks about it. But then, she is reminded of Ben's gentle smile as he cards his fingers through her hair, of the way she feels calmer and sure of what she has, of Luke's soft gaze and younger smile.   
  
It was horrible and terrible and messy, but maybe he's right.   
  
"Yeah," she says, quietly, staring at the pink blossoms. "Maybe it was worth it".

*

The bus leaves her at the corner of the street, so she just has to walk to the park, and she does with her heart in her throat, as she tries to breathe in and out, calming herself. She tells herself it's stupid being so worked up, but she can't help it at all.  
  
"I'm coming back," Ben had said, over the phone, his voice so deep and sweet it almost made her shiver. He had said it with a smile, barely audible but still present, and she had almost cried, because, of course she had. No one had ever talked at her that way, a tender voice and words full of promises. "Can we meet at the park? The one from our first date?"  
  
"Of course," she had replied, her heart hammering furiously in her chest, and, really, that's how she ended up here, walking the few meters that divide them with her hands trembling in the pocket of her light jacket.  
  
When she arrives at the park, he's already there.  
  
Her heart goes completely silent as she notices him, and the moment stretches to infinity and she can already feel it - the making of a memory. He's sitting on a bench, staring at the trees in front of him, and the afternoon soon shines kindly on him, making him look like something taken out of an Impressionist painting, all full of green and brown and warm colors. He's ditched his long coat for a leather jacket, and his hair is falling in waves around his face and he's so beautiful it actually breaks her heart and makes it whole again, and she loves him, she loves him, she loves him.  
  
She can see herself, years from now, remembering this moment - his tall frame leaned against the bench, the sun casting shadows on his face, the quiet expression on his feature, and the happiness that hung around him, delicate and raw at the same time, humming silently, almost a living thing. No matter what happens in her life, that's the moment she will remember forever.

Maybe nothing lasts forever, but this moment will.  
  
He notices her as she arrives beside him, and he smiles up at her, sliding a bit to make room for her on the bench.   
  
"Hey," he says, quietly, and his eyes take in her face, the way she smiles at him, and he seems almost surprised, as if he wasn't used to her presence anymore. But it's nice - he follows her movements, and there's such a love in his eyes that she's already on the verge of tears, because nobody ever looked at her like that.   
  
"Hey," she says back, sitting beside him and looking at him, realizing just now how much she has really missed him - his odd features, his crooked smile, the constellation of moles on his skin, and his laugh, his breath against hers, his body, solid and firm under her hands. Nothing could have prepared her for the sudden wave of love pulling her in, drowning her in that ocean. She doesn't mind.  
  
Ben smiles, and she smiles too, and the world finally makes sense again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come say hi or yell at me on [tumblr](http://www.kylorensx.tumblr.com/)


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Without thinking about it, he brings her hand, still intertwined with his, to his lips, and slowly kisses her knuckles, trying to pour in this gesture everything he's feeling right now, a love so all-encompassing that words seem to shrink down to nothing, in comparison. 
> 
> "Thank you," he says, raising his eyes to stare at her, and there is such a tenderness on her face he shivers again. Rey looks at him like he's the reason for the sun to rise in the morning and set in the evening, and there will always be a voice telling him he's not worthy of it, but for the first time, he wants to prove that voice wrong. 
> 
> She frowns in confusion, staring at him, and Ben feels almost like she's trying to read his mind. "Why are you thanking me?"
> 
> At that, Ben's heart swells, and yields completely - and Rey, beautiful, wondrous Rey looks at him, and asks him why he's thanking her, and how could he ever explain that? How could he ever tell her how wonderful, how extraordinary she is, pulling all his pieces together, making him whole again? She looks at him searching for answers, but she's the only answer he has ever known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey remember when i said that chapter 9 was the longest chapter i had ever written? well, apparently i was lying :D this monster is almost 15k (i know i know) but it's the last one and i didn't want to leave out anything (which is really just an excuse to flood you with fluff and smut and cheesy things) so ... yeah, basically it's the last time you have to deal with me writing too much!
> 
> i will probably get sappy in the end notes, but i wanted to thank you all the same for sticking with me and this little story, it truly means the world to me!

His mother stands in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest and a little smile at the corner of her lips that reminds Ben of an armor, as if she was trying to protect herself from the inevitable pain of letting him go. "You know," she starts, eyeing him as Ben packs his bag again, throwing tee-shirts without even looking. "Now you'll have to come back at least once a month. You owe me".

She says that with a smile, jokingly, but in a way, Ben supposes it's true. He owes her this - he owes her peace, and calm, and the pure and simple act of being loved by her son, after all these years. He owes her his presence - his groaning when she makes a joke and his blushing cheeks when she teases him. He owes her the domesticity, the normalcy he has brutally taken away from her more than ten years ago.

"I will, I promise," he replies, raising his eyes from the messy bag in which he has thrown all his clothes, and staring at the petite frame of his mother. She looks so small and frail, and so much older than he remembered, lines on her forehead from having frowned too much, but she also looks invincible and fierce and determined as always, a bright star bathed in light, the point in which the universe started. Years have passed and left their mark, but there's a sort of fiery hope around her, and he smiles, because there's something so Leia about it he can't help himself.

Hope, against all odds.

She smiles again, and this time it feels sincere and warm, with just a little hint of teasing behind it. "Besides," she says, raising her eyebrows, as her smile turns into a smirk. "I can't wait to meet Rey and tell her all about when you were little and ran around the house butt naked. I must have photos of that, somewhere".

He groans, throwing his head back. " _Mom_ ," he says, and he knows he sounds whiny and annoyed, but the idea of Rey sitting through a show of his childhood photos is quite embarrassing, and that's not something he want to witness in the near future. Hopefully, never. "I swear to God, if you mention any of it I will never bring her here," he adds, even if he wants his mother to meet Rey, and realize how wonderful she is, and fall in love with her too. Just, maybe, no embarrassing photos.

She takes a few steps into his direction, shaking her head, but there's a smile on her lips, and Ben is trying to get used to it, but it's always a surprise, to know that he has made her smile, somehow. He had always thought the only mark he could leave in this world was pain and scars, but - he has made his mother happy, somehow, after everything he has screwed up over the years, and that must mean something, right?

"Sorry, honey, but that's my job," she says, tilting her head backwards to look him in his eyes. He can tell she's still trying to grasp the fact that he has grown so much - he was still a boy when he had left her behind, and now he's a man, and somehow she's trying to understand it. "If I don't tease you and embarrass you, who will?"

He groans again, as he closes his bag and swings it over his shoulder, an usual gesture by now. "I think Luke is already doing a great job".

His mother laughs. It's lively and warm, and it spreads through his bones. It's a pleasant feeling, and he can't quite believe his eyes, but he doesn't stop to question if he deserves this. He's trying. It may be enough for now.

"Before I leave," he starts, as they make their way in the old apartment he knows by heart. It's still weird to be there again and as he walks in the living room he can almost see his father, crouching on the floor with blood on his face. He closes his eyes, and breathes deeply, and then his mother's hand is on his arm, tender and gentle, but firm as always, bringing him back to reality. _Let the past die_ , he tells himself, _let go_. He can try. "I need to do something and- I wish you were there with me. If you want to".

There's a smile on his mother's lips, and he knows she has already understood by the way her fingers dig into his arm, reminding him she's there. "Anything, sweetheart".

The graveyard is quiet, the way Ben thinks they should be. It's in the middle of the morning, and the city is full of sounds and life, but everything is filtered down to nothing, as they step into the silent cemetery. It makes him shiver, and the flowers he's holding into his hands tremble a little bit.

Out of instinct, he takes his mother's hand. She responds immediately, lacing their fingers together and squeezing his hand, her grip almost painful but not quite, a wordless reminder that he's not alone in this.

She makes way for the both of them, because he's never been here. He was not here when they had celebrated his father's funeral - he probably was unconscious in his own blood, by the time the reception had started -, and he has never found the courage to come back until now, because it meant facing it - _everything_. His mother, his guilt, the fact that his father is dead, and what divides them is not anger and pain anymore, but the most impassable border in the world.

But now, he supposes he has to face it. He knows what he has to do now, and, in a way, he has finally found, within himself and in the firm grip of his mother's hand, the strength to do it.

He leaves the flowers there, on his father's grave. The photo on it makes his heart clench, and his father smiles at him, young and hopeful as Ben remembers from his childhood, when things had yet to go utterly wrong. His smile is part charming and part sincere, and his eyes shine.

Ben presses his lips together. "I'm sorry, dad," he murmurs.

And that's both the end and the beginning of all of it.

*

When Rey arrives at the park, the world starts to spin again.  
  
It's immediate and shocking, something tugging at his heart as she sits beside him, and it takes his breath away, but it also feels like he's coming alive again - a delicate spring flower blossoming under her gentle warmth.  
  
He has missed her.   
  
It's a strange sensation, missing someone in a good way, knowing that you're going to see them again. For the past ten years, his life has been missing people he could never come back to, the thought choking him and leaving him shivering, trembling hands and terrified heart, staring at the ceiling at night hoping to find a way to stop missing them, or to make the feeling bearable through pain and blood, without success.  
  
But now - now it feels different.   
  
"I missed you," he says, quietly, because he can and because he wants her to know this - wants her to never doubt of it ever again. He reaches out for her hand and she intertwines their fingers, tenderly, staring at him with her bright eyes, and stroking the back of his hand with her thumb, following the line of his veins. Her touch is almost burning, and he's surprised by the intensity of everything he's feeling right now - almost if the distance had dulled his memory of it.   
  
But now, it comes alive again, under her gaze. She's as beautiful as ever, a woodland creature among these trees, sharp features and gentle smile, and dimples and freckles that make a masterpiece out of her. Her hand is warm in his, her fingers perfect to fit around his own, and he has missed her so much.  
  
Rey surprises him, as usual. "I missed you, too," she replies, smiling up at him - that soft, intimate smile she reserves for him, only, and Ben's heart hammers in his chest, because she's there in front of him, stepping out of her defenses, walls crumbled, telling him she has missed him, making herself vulnerable. She doesn't try to hide what she's feeling anymore, and she looks nervous, but so full of love and adoration that it's impossible not to feel it in the air. Her thigh brushes against his on the bench, and to Ben, that's the point where the universe starts, galaxies bursting into life in the small space between them. She's made of stars and the curve of her smile is a constellation of its own, and he wants to study her and get lost in her, forever.   
  
They can have this, he realizes. They can have forever, and everything they want, together. He's still terrified, sometimes, and his mind still whispers him it can't be true, he doesn't deserve it but - he's trying, and her eyes are so bright they make him forget about anything else. She makes it easier, to forget, and it reminds him of a New Year's Eve under the starry sky, as she whispered against his chest, _You make it easier_.

The world is truly a terrible place, but they have found their way around each other, and to Ben, that's the greatest gift he could have ever asked for.  
  
She places their joined hands on her thigh, as her thumb plays lazily over his skin. "How was Chandrila?" she asks, never looking away from him for more than a second. Ben wonders if she feels as starved for his presence as he feels for hers.  
  
"Beautiful," he replies, thinking about the city, and its life, and the way spring always feels more _alive_ there, almost a living thing. "I forgot how wonderful it is this time of the year, full of green and flowers. It's all so colorful and vibrant you can't really believe winter was ever there".  
  
He smiles a little bit, awkwardly, as he brings a hand at the back of his neck, under her gaze.

"I know it sounds cheesy, it's just-" he shrugs a little bit, still not tearing his eyes away from her, because he can't do that. He drinks her in, a desperate man in the desert, longing for water, as he thinks _I missed you I missed you I missed you_ over and over again. "I kept thinking of you".

There's a small silence, as Rey studies him, her eyes fixed on his face, and he can see her lips tremble, as if she was on the verge of saying something. Her thumb keeps on tracing patterns along his veins, and he tilts his head, smiling at her, unable to do otherwise.

"I kept thinking of bringing you there," he confesses. He knows he's blushing, he can feel the way his cheeks redden, and the tips of his ears burn, but it doesn't matter, because Rey is smiling and staring at him with such a love in her eyes he doesn't even feel ridiculous. "How much you would have liked it, where I would have brought you, how-"  
  
Rey is quick, quicker than he even remembers. In a heartbeat, she grabs him by the lapels of his jacket, and she pull him into her, placing her lips on his. Despite the swift, almost abrupt movements, her kiss is gentle, almost chaste, and he can feel the fluttering of her eyelashes against his cheek as she closes her eyes. It makes him shiver.   
  
He kisses her, and it feels like home. Nothing ever felt like that - not the home of his childhood, not the apartment in Coruscant, not even Luke's flowershop. But Rey's arms - that's where he has found a belonging.

He cups her face with one hand, while the other hovers around her hip, pulling her closer but not even daring to really touch her, scared of ruining this moment that seems almost sacred. It feels like time stands still around them, as they kiss and kiss and learn each other again, her hands coming to lace themselves around his neck as she gently nips at his bottom lip, making him tremble in her embrace.   
  
When he pulls away, she's smiling, unapologetic about what happened.

"Sorry, I didn't want to interrupt your speech," she says, but he can read in her eyes she's not sorry at all, and he laughs, thinking about all time she has waken him up in the morning just to kiss him. Oh, what a mischievous, terrible, beautiful girl he loves.   
  
"You are not sorry," he tells her, with a smile on his face, as he lowers himself to place a kiss on her cheek, marveling at the softness of her skin under his lips. He had almost forgotten how beautiful was to kiss her, and feel her smile underneath his mouth, her hands tracing patterns along his back. She giggles, her arms still around his neck, and she pulls him into her, claiming his mouth again.  
  
"No, I'm not," she whispers, cheekily, before kissing him again. He tangles his fingers in her hair, and listens to the erratic beat of his own heart, knowing he has finally made it home.  
  
Pulling away, she smiles at him again, and there's such a pure, unadulterated happiness on her face, he feels almost on the verge of tears, and he wants to bury his head in her neck, and lose himself in her embrace, forever. He has made her happy - the idea is still so foreign to his mind, and something deep inside him is still waiting for the moment he will fuck things up, but Rey is smiling, and the world is a quiet place for once, and he can breathe.  
  
Rey lets him go, her arms falling at her sides, but she still holds his hand, lacing their fingers together and tracing small patterns on his skin, almost as if being completely separated from him was too painful for her. Ben feels the same - he can't even imagine how he managed to be away for so long, without the gentle touch of her fingertips brushing against his skin. He doesn't want to go on without that for more than a minute, from now on.   
  
"How are you?" she asks, in the end, with her eyes sweet and concerned, her lips pressed together in a small smile, as her thumb still strokes the back of his hand. It's such a small, tender gesture he doesn't really know how to process it, his mind still unused to this kindness, despite the time he's had with her. It feels like he's learning a new language he can't quite grasp, but he lets her do it, and squeezes her hand before replying.   
  
"Good. Better, I think," he says, a little smile on his face to reassure her. She smiles too, quietly, her eyes bright as always, and she looks so open and real in front of him - and maybe he can finally believe that she's there, she is there and she wants him, Ben, and no one else. It's always hard to keep silent that part of his mind that tears him down and rips him apart, but, for the first time in his life, it doesn't make any noise.   
  
It will, of course, because he's still trying and learning, but as for now, it's all quiet, and he looks at her, and there's nothing but love. It's new and unsettling - there's always been only a shadow inside him for so long, eating his heart out piece by piece, but somehow, he doesn't feel any of that right now. He feels whole, in a way he never felt, and calm, and there's only love, inside his heart and around him.  
  
"It's been difficult. Heavy. But you were right," he adds, smiling down at her. He stretches out his free hand to brush a strand of hair out of her face and tuck it beneath her ear, sweetly, and Rey smiles at him, and his heart beats furiously in his chest, and it feels _alive_. "I needed it. I needed to come back, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to start again".  
  
She squeezes his hand, her thumb still caressing his skin, tracing lines over his veins. It feels like some kind of grace, running through him as she strokes his skin, sinking into his bloodstream, and it's such a different touch. He used to be a lot less gentle with himself, but she smiles at him, her thumb brushing against his knuckles, and all those scars and memories are not erased, but they soften under her gaze.   
  
"I'm happy you did it, Ben," she says, quietly. Her voice speaks of fondness and love and care, and, above all, of home. It feels like he has crawled its way around the world only to find his home between her kind, open arms. "I am proud of what you are doing for yourself".  
  
Without thinking about it, he brings her hand, still intertwined with his, to his lips, and slowly kisses her knuckles, trying to pour in this gesture everything he's feeling right now, a love so all-encompassing that words seem to shrink down to nothing, in comparison.   
  
"Thank you," he says, raising his eyes to stare at her, and there is such a tenderness on her face he shivers again. Rey looks at him like he's the reason for the sun to rise in the morning and set in the evening, and there will always be a voice telling him he's not worthy of it, but for the first time, he wants to prove that voice wrong.   
  
She frowns in confusion, staring at him, and Ben feels almost like she's trying to read his mind. "Why are you thanking me?"  
  
At that, Ben's heart swells, and yields completely - and Rey, beautiful, wondrous Rey looks at him, and asks him why he's thanking her, and how could he ever explain that? How could he ever tell her how wonderful, how extraordinary she is, pulling all his pieces together, making him whole again? She looks at him searching for answers, but she's the only answer he has ever known.  
  
"You made me realize it wasn't about deserving love and forgiveness, but it was about learning to accept it," he tells her, quietly, words so easy on his lips, as they have never been. "I don't know if I can manage that," he says, because he wants to be honest with her, because she deserves that, but he suspects she already knows. It almost feels like she knows him better than himself, almost as if she had met him in a different life, a different universe - she has mapped him out, marking the points where he's broken, and the points in which he isn't, and she can read his soul like an open book, but he isn't afraid of that anymore. He wants her to know him, darkness and light, scars and all. "But I want to try".  
  
He kisses again the back of her hand, placing his lips on her veins, listening to the steady, wonderful sound of her heartbeat.   
  
"And I know there will always be some part of me that will cling to that. To the idea of being undeserving and guilty and unworthy of every kindness shown to me," he adds, because she looks at him, in silence, with her beautiful eyes full of life, and her small smile, and he wants to tell her everything, he wants to lie his life at her feet, present her his battered heart in offering. "And I know some days will be difficult and heavy and I will be unreachable. But I want to try".  
  
It will hurt and it will be painful sometimes, and it will feel like hell, because there will always be a part of him that will cling to that shadow, but - but spring is rolling around, and the sun is warm and kind on him, and Rey smiles at him with so much love and tenderness he feels on the verge of exploding, and it's beautiful and natural as breathing. Never easy, never taken for granted but - natural and beautiful.  
  
Rey stretches out her free hand to cup his face, and the touch of her skin against his is grounding. When he gets lost in his own head, she always brings him back, somehow, tugging at the strings that bind him to her.

"I know it sounds really sappy," she starts, her voice a little bit tremulous as she strokes his jaw. "But that's the most beautiful thing I have ever heard," she says, blushing a little bit, making the freckles stand out against her complexion.  
  
He laughs, quietly, and she looks at him as if he had done something extraordinary.

"You are kinda sappy," he tells her, and then he kisses her wrist as she strokes his face, giggling like a child. It's such a pure sound it feels like it's cleansing his soul. He lowers himself a little bit, so he can rest his forehead against hers. "But then, so am I, so I can't really tease you about that".  
  
She wastes no time, and pulls him into a kiss. Her hand sinks into his hair, carding her fingers through the strands. She doesn't pull it - she just threads her fingers so carefully, almost as if the moment was something too fragile for anything else. Ben lets her do it, and his hand comes on her hip, barely holding her against him, but enough to feel her under his fingers.  
  
"I want to try too," she says on his lips, breaking away slightly just to breathe. Her hand comes to stroke his face again. "And I know I've got issues too, and they won't be magically fixed in a heartbeat, and maybe we'll fall short sometimes," she places a little kiss at the corner of his mouth, trailing up to his cheek, peppering his face with kisses. Ben feels almost high on it. "But I want to be there for you, Ben. I want to try with you, if you want me".  
  
As if he could want anything else in the world. He can't imagine any universe in which he doesn't want her, any timeline in which he can live without her.  
  
Rey pulls away from his face to stare at him, a little nervous smile creeping on her lips.

"And I don't know what you are going to do. Maybe you're going to come back to Chandrila, I don't know," she starts to talk, and there's that fear again - the one he's become familiar with, the one that sometimes grips Rey's heart and turns it into dust. He remembers her, staring wide eyed at him, begging him to not take anything back, and he remembers her sobbing into his neck, asking him to not disappear on her. Oh, how he aches to make her realize he won't, ever.  
  
"Rey".  
  
She shakes her head, maybe trying to keep calm, somehow, but her feelings are an ocean tide, pulling him in, dragging him into her. "And maybe you need time and you don't want-"  
  
He cups her face with his hand, his thumb resting on her lips, successfully silencing her in the sweetest way he can imagine. Rey stares at him with her hazel eyes, and the intensity of all of it should be burning, but instead, it's just beautiful.

"I want you," he says, blunt and raw as honest, because he doesn't know how else to be. _Your words are weapon_ , Snoke used to say, but right now they seem more like stitches, closing the wounds in her soul. "Rey, I just want you".  
  
There are tears in her eyes, when she replies, quietly. "You have me".   
  
This time, he is the one to kiss her. He lowers himself and places his lips on her, stroking her cheekbone under his fingers, marveling at the small gasp Rey lets out on his mouth as he pulls her closer, sinking his hand into her hair. He smiles against her, and she lets out a breath, almost trembling under his hands. He drinks those little sounds, kissing them away from her lips, and he loves it, he loves her and his heart is a fluttering thing in his chest that dies to hide itself into her ribcage, pressing itself against her own heart. He's sure she can hear it, but it doesn't matter anymore.   
  
When she pulls away, she doesn't move at all. She keeps close, her body so warm against his, and stares at him, with her wide eyes and small smile, and then she rests her head on his shoulder, as his arm comes around her small frame, holding her close to him. He places his head against hers, delicately, and they stay in silence for a while, looking at the beautiful sky above them, as the sun slowly settles behind the few white clouds, turning the world into a pink-orange masterpiece.   
  
"Now what?" she asks, nuzzling his neck and placing a kiss right above his pulse point. Ben hums, contentedly, instinctively pulling her even closer.  
  
"Well," he says, as his eyes flutter shut almost of their own accord. Rey presses a trail of little kisses up his neck, too sweet and innocent to make him gasp, but beautiful all the same. "I'll have to tell Luke he will have to bear with me for a very long time".  
  
"Mh," it's Rey's comment, as she kisses his jaw, humming softly while his hand draws pattern on her clothed shoulder just the way he has learned she likes. "I think he'll manage to be okay about it".  
  
Ben chuckles, turning just a little bit so he can place a kiss right on her forehead. She hums again, that little sound he knows so well. "And then I will have to buy furniture, because somebody told me my place was a mess".  
  
Rey laughs, hiding her face into his neck, so soft and beautiful in his arms. "That somebody is right, you know," she says, and he laughs too, pulling her close, enjoying the feeling of her body against his in the most innocent, simple way. He wants this, for the rest of his life.  
  
"Don't brag too much," he murmurs, and Rey's small body shivers with laughter, again, in a way that makes his heart twist in his chest so beautifully. "And then-"  
  
"Then?"  
  
He kisses her forehead again. "And then, we start again".

*

"Let's go home," she says, holding his hand, tugging at it as they reach her small apartment on the other side of the city. _Home_ , she says, and, surprisingly, home it is, to him - with printings on the wall, and sheets of paper everywhere, and weird furniture. _Home_.  
  
They barely make it thought the door, before Rey kisses him.   
  
"I missed this place," he tries to say, but she grabs him by the lapels of his jacket - a gesture he didn't know he could be attracted to, but he'll add it to the list of all the things Rey has made him change his mind about - and pulls him into her, her lips hungry, almost starved, her body pressed close against his. Ben gasps on her mouth, surprised by her eagerness, and lets her pin him against the door of her apartment.  
  
He's taller and stronger and they both know he could escape her grip without even making an effort, but Rey presses her body against his and bites his bottom lip, and he yields, completely -  he forgets about everything else that is not her, and the way she kisses him, almost desperate for him, and he would let her do anything to him, no question asked.   
  
"I thought," he says, as she breaks away from his lips and trails kisses down his throat, teeth slightly grazing his skin in the most delicious way. He gasps again, and he can hear her laugh a little bit against his neck, her hot breath sending shivers down his spine. His hands reach for her almost of their own accord, and they curve around her hips, making her hum, approvingly, against his skin. He could stay like this forever, he thinks. "I thought we were supposed to go home, not stand in the doorway".  
  
Rey raises her eyes from his neck, where she's busy sucking a bruise against his skin, and Ben feels his body melting into her, as she finally looks at him. Her eyes are big, and darkening, and her lips are red, and she's so beautiful he wants nothing but to kiss her until the end of the world.   
  
"Don't be a smartass," she says, with a smile, and it's her usual banter, but somehow it's different. Her voice is low, and it makes his stomach twist as she utters those words, and he realizes, with a jolt, it almost sounds like an order.   
  
His body reacts almost instinctively, bucking into her as he lets his head fall back against the door, and he feels himself going red, embarrassed by his own reaction, whispering _sorries_ without looking her in the eyes, but she smiles, sweetly, one hand coming to cup his face as she trails kisses up his neck again.   
  
"It's okay," she murmurs, on the corner of his lips, her fingers stroking the skin of his cheek with slow, gentle, calming movements. "It's okay, Ben, don't overthink it" she reassure him, pressing kisses on every inch of his face she can reach. Oh, she's so sweet and he wants to bury his face into the hollow of her neck and stay there forever, kissing her skin as the world around them spins and spins into infinity.   
  
Her hand trails down again, following the line of his muscles under the jacket, and then resting against his chest, fingers digging into the thin material of his tee-shirt.   
  
"I missed you," he says, staring down at her, and she's so beautiful, small and fragile looking, but oh, so fierce and full of energy, something wonderful and extraordinary, a work of art under his hands. He's not sure he really deserves her, and the way she looks at him right now, eyes like stars in the darkness of her apartment, but - he wants it. He wants it, and her, and everything she wants to offer him, and maybe he doesn't deserve it, but it doesn't matter anymore.   
  
Rey grabs a fistful of his shirt, pulling him down to her. Despite her quick movements, she's smiling so sweetly that his heart goes in utter chaos.   
  
"I missed you too," she says, before raising to her tiptoes again and kissing him. Her kiss is less hungry, this time, but he can feel it - the immensity of everything, stirring just beneath the surface. The want, the need, the love - everything blending together, making his heart swell into his chest, beating painfully quick against its cage of bones. "God, you're too tall," she adds, pulling away from him just slightly, her mouth coming to leave kisses on his face.  
  
He reacts immediately - his hands are at her hips and he lifts her up without a problem, as if she weighted nothing, and then he takes advantage of this moment to flip their positions and press her against the door. Rey yelps, surprised, but she's quick to bring her arms around his neck, gripping his shoulders as he pins her to the door, and he can hear giggle, as she throws her head back, her fingers digging into his jacket. Her legs come instantly to encircle his waist, pulling him closer into her, and he groans a little bit, hiding his face into her neck.  
  
"Better?" he asks, leaving a trail of kisses from her pulse point to the edge of her collarbone.  
  
She hums, quietly, one of her hand coming to rest into his hair to press him closer into her skin.

"Yes," she says, her voice wavering a little bit as he nips at the delicate skin of her throat. "Don't get too co- _oh_ " her voice breaks when he sinks his teeth into her skin, and her fingers tighten into his hair, pulling it a little bit too forcefully, making him moan against her neck.  
  
He pulls away immediately. "Was- was that okay?" he asks, raising his eyes to meet hers, and she's something incredible - her face flush, her lips red and swollen, her eyes dark and blown, and he loves her and wants her so much his body seems incapable of holding it in at all. He kisses the place where he has left a bruise on her throat, and she shivers, pulling his hair. He gasps again, unable to help himself.  
  
"Yes," she replies, almost instantly, throwing her head back to give him better access. Her body moves against his, hips tentatively searching for friction, and oh, he feels like the world could end right now and he wouldn't even notice. All he cares about is the way her hips move against his, her body screaming for him as his does for her. "Do that again. Please".   
  
She's begging, but her hand is still gripping his hair, and she's still moving her hips so slightly, clouding up his mind, and it feels more like an order than anything else, and Ben complies, as usual. He kisses again and again the skin of her throat, biting it, nipping at it, leaving a trail of bruises against her beautiful complexion, and Rey turns into a whimpering mess underneath his lips, murmuring his name over and over again like a broken prayer, pulling his hair, gripping the strands between her fingers.   
  
Her other hand digs into the fabric of his jacket as he nibbles at her jaw, making her sigh, softly. He drinks, almost avidly, all her reactions, all her little sounds, memorizing them in the part of his mind that is entirely Rey's. "Ben," she says, almost panting.   
  
He rolls his hips, tentatively, and he feels her shudder against him, her fingers gripping his hair so tightly it makes his skin tingle. He moans against her, sucking a bruise on the underside of her jaw, trying to get hold of all the sensations rippling through him. It's all new, and he doesn't really know what he's doing, but, God, he _wants_ this. "Mh?"  
  
It takes her a moment to regain the ability to speak, and Ben raises his eyes, staring at her in fascination as she tries to focus again. He leaves a kiss right at the point where her jaw meets her neck, and she melts under his touch, her body pressing against his in the sweetest way.

"You know, I really love your leather jacket".  
  
He laughs, and she shivers again, her fingers almost carving a hole into his clothes, gripping him so tightly he hopes it will leave a mark. He supposes he has borne far worse marks.   
  
"You do?" he asks, dragging his lips across her skin, as he presses her harder against the door. She gasps, a little breathy sound that has him surprised, and bucks into him again, just as one of his hands slips beneath her clothes to touch the hot skin of her torso.   
  
She hums. "I definitely do. But," she grips his hair again, and gently tugs at it, not enough to hurt him but enough to get his attention, silently asking him to look at her. He does, unable to deny her anything, and there's a beautiful, terrible smirk on her swollen lips, and he wants to kiss it to know what it tastes like in his mouth. "You need to take it off. Now".  
  
Ben laughs, again. "As you wish".  
  
He is quick - he presses her into the door, and she holds on onto him, as he sheds his jacket, letting it fall to the floor without even a second thought. Rey stares at him, with her beautiful hazel eyes full of things he finally understands, and then she pulls him into her, kissing him almost as if her life depended on it. Her hands dip beneath the hem of his tee-shirt, and trace the lines of his muscles, making him shiver in the kiss.   
  
"Wait," she says, on his lips, slightly pulling away to look him in the eyes.   
  
"What?" Ben asks, furrowing his brow, afraid of having messed it up somehow. His heart hammers against his chest as he studies her face, but she's smiling, and her fingers are drawing patterns against his hipbone, slowly, making him lose his mind. He can feel a burning trail where her fingertips brush against his skin, and it's the most peculiar sensation, and he never wants her to stop.   
  
"Did you just quote The Princess Bride?"  
  
"Oh, God," Ben blushes under her gaze, and buries his head into her neck, kissing the tender skin there as Rey giggles, the purest sound in the world, so silvery and beautiful it makes him forget for a second why he's even blushing so hard.  
  
"Oh my God, you did," she says, laughing. The way her body shivers against his makes him cry, and he wants to hear her laugh for the rest of his life. Everything else is forgotten - there's just Rey, and her laughter, and the quiet happiness that hangs around her, like waves, pulling him in, drowning him in it. "I can't believe it. You are such a romantic nerd".  
  
His teeth graze against her pulse point, and her shivering turns into something else - she rolls her hips, instinctively, letting out a little gasp as she does, a sound that makes his body ache for her.

"Shut up," he says, against her skin, running his teeth down to the edge of her collarbone. Before she can say anything else, his hands reach her blouse, unbuttoning the first few button, just so he can kiss his way down her chest.   
  
Rey sighs, too lost on it to remember what she was saying - of this, Ben is really glad - and she lets out a whimper when his lips reach her breast, still covered by her simple black bra. He traces with his mouth the small, entrancing curve of it, leaving a trail of kisses, and she arches in his touch, panting slightly, as a flush spreads from her face to her chest. Oh, Ben loves it more than anything else in the world, and he lightly nibbles at her soft flesh, making her moan.  
  
"Ben," she says, throwing her head back against the door with a slamming sound. He looks up, worried, but she doesn't seem to mind, because she arches her body, pressing herself closer, her hands still underneath his shirt, tracing patterns against his abdomen. "Ben, please, I need-"  
  
Ben stares at her, his lips still following the outline of her breast, teeth slightly grazing her skin, as he remembers the way she had asked him to touch her, that night on her couch, so many weeks ago. She had looked so wrecked and desperate, and he had wanted nothing but to give her everything she could ask for, all of him, all his love and life and everything in between.

Now she rocks against him, as desperate as that night, her voice almost high-pitched, her body shivering against his, and her eyes so big and dark he can feel himself falling into that abyss, and he's still surprised this goddess is right in front of him, starved for his touch and his presence, but he climbs up to kiss her and bring his hands under her thighs, steadying her.   
  
"Hold on, love," he murmurs on her lips, and she whimpers, her arms coming to lace themselves around his neck, her fingers digging into his back.   
  
He walks them to her bedroom, Rey wrapped around him, her face buried into his neck, her lips leaving small kisses to his skin, gentle and sweet as always. The way is all too familiar to him - he's been here so many times his body seems to remember how to get there a most automatically, and when they reach her bedroom, she has already shed her coat, letting it fall to the ground.   
  
He places her on her bed gently, with the utmost care, almost as if he could break her, and then he covers her body with his, careful not to crush her. He props himself on his hands, and her fingers come to brush against his naked arms, tracing the lines of his veins and following the intricate pattern of the tattoo she has inked on his skin, and smiling up at him as she searches for his eyes.

She's beautiful like this - her small body under his, her hair fanned around her face, the faint light of the sunset illuminating her through the blinds. She's something precious and special, and Ben loves her so much he can actually feel his love all around him, like a living thing, humming in the silent apartment.   
  
The mood shifts, somehow. The urgency of a few moments before seems to ebb, under her gaze, and he presses a kiss to the corner of her lips, as she lets out a small sigh. Her hand comes to cup his face, fingers brushing against his hair, not gripping it, but threading through it, lightly, and he feels his heart almost crack in his chest by the immensity of all of it. Of his love, of his want, of everything he's feeling. He feels lost on her, and he never wants to be found again.  
  
Rey smiles, sweetly, as her fingers seem to count the moles on his face, following them, putting them together like stars in a constellation.

"Are you okay?" she asks, smiling hesitantly, and Ben can hear everything she's not saying, but that she's asking him all the same. _Are you sure about this? Are you okay about this? Do you really want this?_  
  
He wants to cry, right there under her gentle gaze. Her fingers stroke the skin of his cheek, and she looks at him, eyes full of love and concern for him, and he never thought he could have this - Rey, splayed under him, looking up at him with so much fondness on her face. She worries about him, and her fingers are gentle, as they brush against his cheekbone, and he doesn't know how to react to this kindness. He still has to learn, but for the first time, it doesn't scare him as much as it used to.  
  
"Yes," he whispers, as his hand comes to brush against her side, fingers tracing lines against her skin. She looks up to him with that small, soft smile she always gifts him, and Ben can't help but lower himself to kiss it, slowly, gently. Her fingers card through his hair, sweetly, almost caressing him. "Are you?"   
  
Rey nods, one hand on his face, the other trailing up on his shoulder, her fingers drawing patterns against his tee-shirt, no urgency but immense tenderness in her gesture.

"Yes," she says, quietly, her eyes shining like stars, her lips curved in a smile. "I want you, Ben".  
  
He understands what she means - it's not just about sex. It's about the lonely nights in Jakku, it's about the desperation of all of it, it's about the way she has clung to the few scraps of love and affection she got, and how that fear always crept in the back of her mind, reminding her how temporary and fleeting love was. It's about how she finally finds herself there, staring at him, letting all that fears and doubts go, saying she wants him, making herself vulnerable and letting him see her for what she is - broken, damaged, and utterly beautiful.   
  
Ben can't help but smile at her, and she's wonderful, a miracle of bones and determination, a desert flower that bloomed through adversity and pain, and she's broken, maybe, but he is too, and they can heal together, somehow.   
  
"You have me," he tells her, his fingers coming to rest at her side, pulling her closer, slowly. And then, because words are always raw and real on his lips, he adds, "Always, and completely".  
  
Rey says nothing, she just surges to kiss him, twining her arms around his neck, her hands lost in his hair, her lips gentle against his. It's all so delicate and kind - the world spins slowly around them, stars bursting into life where her fingers brush against his skin, and his hand rests at the small of her back, fingertips scaling the ladder of her spine over her shirt. There's no urgency, no immense need behind it - there's just Rey, kissing him, making him feel loved for the first time in years.   
  
He doesn't stop to asks himself if he deserves this kind of love.   
  
When he breaks away, he starts trailing kisses down her neck, slowly, sweetly, pulling her into him. His teeth graze at her collarbone, and Rey lets out a sigh, her eyes fluttering shut. The small movements of her eyelashes feels like a hurricane, and the rising and falling of her chest under his lips is a wave, an ocean tide, dragging him into her.   
  
He finishes unbuttoning her blouse, fingers hesitant and clumsy, but she doesn't mock him. She raises herself just enough to let the piece of clothing fall from her body, and then she's pressing kisses to his jaw, nibbling at it in the way that always melts him, as his hands try to unhook her bra.   
  
He tugs at it, tentatively, and huffs a little bit as he tries to find the way to let it loose, and then he can hear her giggle against his neck.

"Here, let me help you," she says, leaving a last, open mouthed kiss to the side of his neck, before pulling away and bringing her hands on his.   
  
He stares at her in pure fascination as she shows him how to unhook her bra in swift, automatic movements. He has seen her do this a few times before, but the mechanic of it still leaves him awestruck, and he just looks at her as she lets it fall to the floor next to the bed. Rey blushes a little bit, the red spreading from her face to the edge of her chest.

"Don't look at me like that," she says, smiling, as her hand comes to sink into his hair, wrapping her fingers around the strands, delicately. "I didn't do any magic trick".  
  
He laughs, as one of his hands comes to brush again against her side, slowly trailing up, making her shiver against him. It's always a surprise, to realize he can do this - make her shiver and tremble and gasp and whimper. It never ceases to amaze him, and it makes him smile. "Well, you are pretty magical to me".  
  
Rey stares at him, and her blush deepens, her freckles a dark spot against her red cheeks, and she's so beautiful he can't even process it.

"You are becoming such a sap," she says, but he can see there are tears at the corners of her eyes, and so he wipes them away with his lips, kissing every inch of her face in the process.   
  
His hand comes to cup her breast, thumb flicking over her nipple, and she arches a little bit, letting out a soft gasp, as her fingers dip again beneath his tee-shirt, tracing the lines of his navel, following his muscles up and down in slow movements. It almost feels like electricity running through him as she presses her palm against his stomach.   
  
"Ben," she whispers, oh so sweetly. He tweaks her nipple between his fingers and she moans, her head thrown back. He takes advantage of this moment to press small kisses on the column of her throat, nipping at it just slightly. "Ben," she calls again, and her fingers tug at his shirt, drawing his attention. "Off" she adds, not particularly articulated, but getting her message across all the same.  
  
He complies, as always, sitting back on his knees to remove his shirt with her help, and then he discards it on the floor, where their clothes are piling up. He isn't afraid of showing himself anymore, and he smiles when her fingers come to follow the sinew of his shoulder, the lines of his chest, of his abdomen, right to his navel. It feels like she's exploring him, connecting all the moles and freckles on his skin, and making a whole star chart out of it.   
  
"You're beautiful," she murmurs, and really, she has said that a lot of time, whispering those words right against his skin, but it always brings him to tears, because she looks at him almost as if she was looking at a starry sky, something beautiful and utterly magnificent in its immensity.  
  
She sits up too, gently kissing his face, almost to reassure him, and he brings his hand at the small of her back, pulling her into him as she places her lips on his shoulder. She mouths the scar that marks his skin, and it doesn't disappear, but it looks less terrible - almost nice - under her lips. She ventures down, dragging her mouth to his collarbone and then his chest, leaving a trail of small kisses, her lips covering the marks he was so afraid of showing her. Her hands smother the skin under their fingers, and Ben shivers, and his head spins and it feels like the world is crashing down on him in the best possible way.  
  
He kneads her breast into his palm, slowly, letting her sounds, her little breaths and gasps and moans guide him as they explore and learn each other again. His other hand slowly reaches for the button of her jeans and Rey sighs against his neck, her short nails digging into his back. It's not painful, but even if it was, he knows that it would be a kind of pain he would accept gladly.  
  
Ben guides her on the bed again, as he slowly unbuttons her jeans and slides them along her legs, Rey helping him by kicking them off. He laughs against her neck, as his lips slowly trail down. "Eager, aren't we?"  
  
Rey laughs too, as she finally frees herself of her jeans, kicking them off the bed in one swift move.

"Terribly," she replies, and she's only half joking, because he can feel the need mounting in her, like a star slowly shedding its outer layers before bursting into blinding light.   
  
He leaves kisses on her breasts, flicking his tongue against her nipples, grazing at them, slowly. Rey arches her back as he does, her eyes screwed shut, her hands into his hair, pulling him close to her body. He drags his lips slowly from one breast to another, sucking at the soft flesh, nibbling at it, not enough to leave a bruise but enough to make her moan and tug at his hair. He's hard, by now - he's been for a lot, honestly, probably since Rey had pinned him to the door, but right now it doesn't even matter.   
  
He want to worship her - he wants to leave kisses on every inch of her body, and lavish her with love and adoration, and make her shiver and tremble and shatter under him. He wants to devote himself to her, completely.   
  
He slowly ventures down, pressing open mouthed kisses to her skin - the taut line of her stomach, the soft flesh of her belly button, the sharp dip of her hipbone. Rey sighs and moans so beautifully he wants to hear nothing else for the rest of his life.   
  
Then, his hands find the band of her underwear, and he toys with it, as he drags his fingers from her hip to her hot, wet center. Rey cries out, suddenly raising her head to look at him, and Ben stares at her, smiling up, fingers brushing against her. He waits for her, and Rey just nods, never taking her eyes away from him as he removes the last piece of clothing, slowly dragging it down her legs. Then, he looks up at her, and - he almost cries.  
  
She's beautiful, splayed on the bed, her eyes shining like stars on her face, her lips curved in a smile, her small and wonderful body under him. He has never seen something so magnificent, and his heart almost gives in, realizing she's there, for him and only him.  
  
His fingers dip between her folds and she lets out a surprised gasp as he strokes her entrance, tentatively as always. He watches her in fascination - her face flushed, her eyes screwed shut, a focused expression on her feature - and then, as slowly as always, he sinks to his knees in front of her, placing his head between her thighs. 

Rey's breath hitches.  
  
"Is this okay?" he asks, hesitant as usual, staring up at her, as his hands come to rest around her thighs, fingertips brushing against her skin. Rey looks at him, surprised, and he can read every emotion passing briefly in her eyes - shock, disbelief, want, need, _love_ \- and he smiles up at her as she slowly nods, biting down on her bottom lip. "I've never-. Can you- can you guide me?"  
  
Rey bites her lips again, and then there are tears at the corner of her eyes, when she answers. "Of course".  
  
He settles between her legs, his hands resting on her legs, fingers digging lightly into her soft flesh to prevent himself from trembling. He wants this so much - he wants to make her feel good, to see her like that, lost in the pleasure and utterly beautiful - and he's scared of messing it up, and he bites his lips, nervously, breath hitching in his throat as he looks up to her.

"Hey, you don't have to do this," Rey murmurs, raising up on her elbows, as she notices the way he trembles between her legs. He shakes his head, almost as if he wanted to tell her not to worry about this, but he can't find the right words right now. He doesn't know how to voice this need - this need to be good for her, to make her feel good, to make her happy. It's something so deep within himself he can't find a way to let it out, so he smiles, gently, his thumb stroking her skin. She brings her hand into his hair, brushing a few strands off his face with a gentle touch. "Ben, seriously, I don't car-"

He places a kiss on the inside of her thigh, first. Her skin is hot, and soft, and it feels wonderful under his lips - the most beautiful thing in the world. "I want to," he replies, in the end, as she lets out a small sigh. His gaze shoots up almost automatically, and Rey's eyes are fluttering shut as he presses another kiss, nipping gently at the soft flesh. "I'm just nervous," he adds, with a little smile, before grazing at her skin with his teeth, careful not to leave a bruise, just making her shiver with pleasure. Rey sighs again, flopping on the mattress, as if the intensity of the sensation had taken all her strength, and he lavishes her with kisses, exploring her, letting her small pants and gasps guide him, a thread of light illuminating his way.   
  
"Well," she says. Her voice is already wavering, her breath labored, as if she had just run a marathon. He has done this, he thinks, and he can't quite believe it, even if he's kneeling between her legs, pressing kisses to her skin, slowly making his way to her center. "No need to be nervous. You're doing great".

He chuckles, and he knows he's blushing - he's probably red by now, and it shouldn't embarrass him so much, since he's there, between her legs, but somehow it does, and he presses another kiss to her thigh, dangerously close to her folds, to stop thinking about it.

Her hands come to rest into his hair, and they tug at it, almost asking him to do something. She doesn't speak, but he understands her all the same, and he brings his mouth on her, tentatively. His minds spins furiously, afraid of messing it up, as his lips close around her clit, lightly sucking at it, and Rey cries out, her legs kicking around him.  
  
He raises his eyes, worried, but she grips his hair again and lets out a soft moan, calling out his name, and so he does that again, deliberately this time, careful, paying attention to her every reaction. She lets out another moan, her body arching into him, instinctively bucking her hips against his face as her fingers grip his hair. He's surprised by how responsive she is, and he brings a hand to her hips, trying to keep her still as he explores what he can do.  
  
"Don't move," he murmurs, against her, and Rey lets out a high-pitched sound, almost a whine, as he returns to her folds. He lets her clit go, and tentatively licks a long stripe along her slit, and she moans again, her fingers tightening their grip around his strands to pull him closer, to urge him into her. It almost hurts, but he groans all the same.  
  
" _Ben_ ," she whimpers, her voice small and broken, little pants coming out of her lips. His name on her mouth feels almost like a supplication, and he complies, unable to do otherwise, as his hand digs into her hips to prevent her from moving too much. He lets her slight roll her hips against him, as he delves his tongue into her, and he's rewarded by the beautiful, wonderful keening sound escaping her lips as he does. Rey is something wild, like this - head thrown back, her face lost in the pleasure, her lips slightly parted, breathy, beautiful sounds falling from her mouth. She rocks against his face, crying out so beautifully, almost screaming as his lips find her clit again.  
  
He sucks on it, lightly, and then he brings one hand down, his fingers stroking her center as his teeth graze at the bundle of nerves. At this, Rey does scream, closing her legs shut around his face, and he smiles against her, marveling at the way he can make her lose control. He loves her - he loves the way she puts herself together, but also the way she lets all of it go, calling out his name, gripping his hair, moving her body against him, responsive and sensitive.   
  
He easily slips a finger inside her, and she's rocking her hips so hard she's almost lifting herself off the bed, and her thighs are trembling around him. He adds another finger, slowly pumping them, and crooking them, and Rey turns into a whimpering, moaning mess under him, all quick breaths and wrecked sounds, legs quivering around his head, one arm thrown over her eyes.  
  
She's beautiful, and he loves her. He comes to graze at her clit again, and her hips stutter in their pace, her fingers digging into his scalp, tugging at his hair almost too forcefully.

"Rey, love" he murmurs, against her, as he crooks his fingers again. She whimpers, murmuring _yes, yes, like this_ , under her breath. "It's okay, love. Look at me, please, look at me".  
  
She does. She raises herself up to stare down at him, her eyes big and blown and her lips parted and it's in this moment he sucks down on her clit again, and crooks his fingers just right how she likes it, and she comes - she explodes in a million pieces, shattering around him, letting out a moan and then falling again against the mattress, trying to catch her breath.   
  
Ben pulls away from her and climbs up again to lean against her, staring at her beautiful, flushed, red face. He removes a strand of hair from her forehead, and presses a kiss to her cheek, as she slowly recovers, her eyes still shut.

"Are you okay?" he asks her, peppering her face with sweet kisses and throwing an arm around her waist to pull her closer. She nods, limp and spent against him, and then she giggles, the sound almost overwhelming in the dull silence of her apartment.  
  
"God, Ben, how can you even _ask_ that?" she asks, turning into his direction. Her eyes slowly flutter open, and then she's smiling, throwing one leg over his waist and pulling him into her, pressing kisses to his face, neck, chest, in between giggles. He can't keep tracks of all the kisses she leaves on his skin, but he basks in the affection she's showing him, no second thoughts. "Yes, Ben, I'm more than okay," she adds, working up a bruise on the column of his throat.   
  
He can feel his eyes close, automatically, as he lets her press him into the mattress and straddle him, her hands pinning his shoulder down as she sinks her teeth into his neck. He jolts, and something in his abdomen coils up, making him shiver and arch against her body.

"Oh," he says, stupidly, but she's smiling against his skin, and she's bringing her hand down to his jeans, slowly unbuttoning them. Her lips trail up, kissing and nipping at his jaw, and he's tense as she starts to pull his jeans down, but she kisses the spot right where his jaw meets his neck, and he melts, helping her slide off the piece of clothing.   
  
"Hey, it's okay," she whispers, coming to straddle him again. He can feel her through his boxers, and he throws his head back, instinctively rolling his hips as she moves a little bit, tentatively. Rey gasps and giggles, and her lips come to rest at his pulse point, hot and gentle. "We don't have to do anything you don't want. You can tell me, okay?"   
  
And then, as she kisses down his neck, pressing kisses to his collarbones and the hard planes of his chest, she whispers, "What do you want, Ben?" It's soft, and gentle, and her lips are right above his heart, and it feels like she's carving a hole through his flesh to reach it, and grasp it in her hands, stroking it so lovingly. "Just tell me, baby, please".  
  
Maybe it's the endearment, or maybe it's the way she says it, so sweetly, or maybe it's everything - the surety of her love, the beauty of her half-lidded eyes as she looks up to him, the quiet certainty of his heart as he stares at her. Maybe he won't ever know. But he finally relaxes, and brings his hand on her face, cupping it, threading his fingers through her hair.

"You," he says, unapologetic and maybe a little bit desperate, a hunger he didn't know he could feel taking hold of him. "I want you. Please, love, please".  
  
Rey blinks, and then she's climbing up again, pressing kisses to his face, the corner of his mouth, his forehead. She kisses him, fully, deeply, her knees driving into his hips as she moves in maddening movements against him. And then, her hand finally reaches his boxers to pull them down, and she's sliding against him and - _oh_.  
  
"Oh," he says again, biting his lips. He jolts upright, sitting on her bed, and she's still straddling him, one arm around his neck, and fingers curving around his shaft, her lips pressed against his face as she slowly moves her hand along his length. "Oh, Rey, Rey-"  
  
She drinks his sound, kissing him again as she sets a writhing pace. Her thumb brushes over the head and he jolts again, bucking his hips into her hand. "I'm here, baby, I'm here, I've got you" she says, sweetly, into his ear.  
  
"I need you, please," he hears himself say, voice broken, tears falling from his eyes as she kisses his neck and drags her hand along his cock. It feels like he's not really there, like he's someplace else, lost in the pleasure and the sensation, and it feels like burning and dying, but also like coming alive again under her touch. Nothing ever felt like this, and he breathes heavily against her, begging her as if his life depended on it. "Rey, love, please. _Please_ ".  
  
He can't control the waterfall of sounds escaping his lips, and even if he could, he wouldn't dare to - he wants Rey to know how good this feels, how lost on it he is, how beautiful and terrible and maddening is to be this intimate with someone. He never thought he could want any of this, but Rey kisses him again as she slowly sinks down on him, and he's gone, gone, _gone_.  
  
It's gradual - she takes him inch by inch, seconds turning into a whole lifetime as she grips his shoulders, lips parted and eyes closed, brow furrowed in concentration. He kisses the underside of her jaw, sweetly, as he tries to hold still. "Is everything alright?"  
  
Rey nods, eyes screwed shut as she sinks further down. He groans, the sensation of it almost overwhelming, and something in him - something primal and unknown to him, something that has awaken just now - aches to bury himself in her and move, but his hand comes to rest at the small of her back, fingers tracing up and down her spine, reassuringly, making her feel that is okay, that she's so perfect and, God, he loves her.   
  
"It's okay," Rey whispers, pressing a kiss into his temple, so caring, so loving even in the middle of all of it, worried for him. He has to kiss her neck to convey all that he's feeling right now - all the words are lost somewhere in his mind, scattered around his brain, but somehow it's okay, because Rey understands him all the same, and cards her fingers through his hair, smiling softly against his skin. "It's just- It has been a while, and you-" she lets out a little gasp, as his lips press against her pulse point. "You feel amazing, Ben".  
  
He kisses her face, her jaw, the point at the base of her neck that he knows always turns her into a whimpering mess. She moans, softly, and then - _oh_. All the hair has been sucked out of his lungs, and his head shoots up, staring at her. He's buried deep within her, and the sensation is almost overwhelming.

It's too much, a part of him thinks, it's too much and he can't take it, fears and doubts and old terrors resurfacing in his mind as he waits for her to adjust around him. It feels - like dying, but also like bursting into life, like every star in the universe is exploding right under his skin, and he's awestruck ad terrified at the same time.  
  
But then, Rey starts to move. The whole world shifts and moves with her, following her movements - shallow, at first, almost as if she was testing it - and all the fears and doubts fly out of his mind as her fingers dig into the muscles of his shoulders, using it as leverage to push against him. " _Ben_ ," she pants.  
  
Her voice is low and ragged, as broken as his, and he looks at her, marveling at the way her body arches against him, the way her thighs close around his waist, the way her small breasts move in synch with her thrusts. He always found this kind of things a terrible and messy affair, but she makes it look beautiful and easy and more intimate than everything else in the world. It's loving, and gentle, and she moves so slowly against him, never letting him out of her, gripping his shoulders so tightly he can almost feel the bruise under her fingertips.   
  
He isn't even aware of the sound he's making - he just keeps staring at her in wonder, as if he was admiring a forming star. She moans and whimpers and he knows he does too at every movement, but he doesn't even hear himself, too focused on her sounds, on the way she feels around him, on her hands on his skin.

"Ben," she whispers, as she place an open mouthed kiss to his neck. "Baby, you can move. Please".  
  
He does, tentatively. He brings his hands down to her hips, gripping them lightly, and then he's thrusting upwards, in a shallow move. Rey cries out, and he stares at her, but she just keeps moving, meeting his movements, and so he thrusts again, and again, always gently, always slowly, accompanying every movement with a kiss on her collarbone, her chest, the outline of her breast.  
  
It feels like nothing ever felt - like he's dying and coming alive at every second, breath short and ragged on his mouth just like a panic attack. It's almost a surprise, to realize how all of this - how love - almost resembles a breakdown, but there's Rey, and her lips find their way to his cheek, his temple, his forehead. She presses kisses to his hairline as she rocks above him, and Ben forgets everything else.   
  
"Harder," Rey says, against his skin, her nails carving a mark in his shoulders as she uses her grip on him for purchase, quickening her movements, thrusting deeper. Oh, oh, _oh_. "Please, Ben, please".  
  
" _Yes_ ," he murmurs, against her neck, and then he moves, thrusting into her more forcefully than he would have wanted, but Rey moans, and her body arches even more, and he does that again. "Yes, love".  
  
He can hear her laugh against his forehead, but she says nothing. She just keeps on moving, rocking her hips in time with his movements, her voice broken as she whimpers and keens and moans. His thrusts become erratic, hips stuttering as he keeps a quick pace, his hands gripping her hips to rock her against himself. He can't quite belive this moment - it should be terrible, and awful, as it used to be for him, but Rey is there, holding onto him, pressing her lips against his skin, brushing his fingers against his muscles, and it feels almost sacred. His name feels like a prayer uttered in a darkening room, and he wants to hear it over and over again.   
  
"You feel so amazing, Ben," she murmurs, placing kisses to his skin. He pants, lips dragging across her collarbone, mouthing it as he thrusts upward. She throws her head back, and he kisses her neck, amazed by the way she yields against him, as she moves her hips. She's so beautiful, he thinks. She's beautiful and wonderful and _mine, mine, mine._ "Ben, touch me".  
  
He doesn't need to be told twice - he brings his hand down between their bodies, and finds her clit, thumbing it as he moves against her. "Rey, love," he murmurs against her throat, as he quickens his pace on her clit, and she whimpers, her body shivering against him. He knows her, by now, and he knows she's close, her frame so taut and tense it almost feels like on the verge of breaking. "You can let go, now. Please, love".  
  
He presses his thumb down to her clit as he thrusts into her, and she does let go. She shudders against him, clenching and shivering, and her lips part in a soundless gasp, and then he's thrusting one, two, three times more and then he's coming too, with a cry. Her body slumps down against his, limp and spent and sated, and he sinks into the mattress again, one arm around her waist to keep her close.  
  
They stay like that for a while, recovering, trying to catch their breath. Ben trails his fingers up and down her spine, slowly, and Rey kisses his shoulder, right where she has buried her head, and it feels even more intimate and tender than everything else. Her small body is still pressed to his, her breasts against his chest, but it feels - more like home, than arousing. His eyes flutter shut, enjoying the sensation of her around him, in all the possible ways.  
  
She presses a last kiss to his shoulder, before pulling away from him. A soft moan escapes her lips and she does, and then she sinks right next to him, one arm swung around his chest to keep him close. "Thank you," he says, and she giggles again, sweet and pure as always.  
  
"You don't have to thank me," she says, kissing his shoulder again, and staring up at him with her beautiful hazel eyes. _You don't have to thank me_ , she says, but oh, he does. He has to thank her, for her patience and her love and her unwavering faith in him, and the way she has always been there, a thread of light guiding him home.   
  
But he says nothing of that - he just leans to kiss her, and maybe, maybe she understands.  
  
They lie in silence for a while, savoring the feeling of being so close, no need to put it in words. She kisses his shoulder sometimes, and he draws patterns along her hipbone, making her sigh and giggle against him. It's such a new sensation - to have someone so close to him, to feel someone so deeply within his soul. To be this intimate with someone, without his old fears ruining the moment.   
  
Her breath ghosts against his shoulder. "You know what I'm thinking about?" she murmurs, as her lips press against his skin in the sweetest way.  
  
Ben blinks once, then twice, pulling himself away from the sensations clouding up his mind to focus on her, next to him. "Mh?" it's all he manages to say.  
  
"Sharknado".  
  
At that, Ben finally manages to focus. He props himself on his elbow, turning into her direction and staring at her with a confused frown on his face. Rey laughs, quietly.

"What?" he asks, as she slides closer to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "How can- I hope you weren't thinking about that before".  
  
She laughs, throwing her head back. Her hand comes to rest on his shoulder, as her fingers trace the lines of his muscles. He still can't get over the fact that she has told him she finds his arms attractive and he probably never will. He has never found himself beautiful - he's always been awkward and disconnected from his own body, as if it had grown overnight without warning him. But Rey brushes her fingers against his skin, and tells him he's beautiful and maybe he can't believe the reflection in the mirror, but he can believe the one in her eyes.  
  
"I'm not sure I was even capable of thinking, before," she whispers, kissing his jaw, and her voice is so low it makes him blush. He whimpers a little bit, and he can feel the sweet smile on her lips, as she runs her mouth down his neck. It's not something arousing - it's just her, showering him in kisses. He loves it so much he's sure he's going to explode from all of it. He hadn't realized how touch-starved he was until Rey had pressed a kiss right at the corner of his mouth, opening a door that he had closed years and years ago.   
  
Now it feels like nothing could ever be enough, but he's strangely okay with it - with the need clawing at his throat every time he sees her. He's not sure he wouldn't have it any other way.  
  
"It's just - it doesn't make any sense. Why on earth throwing a bomb into a tornado should stop it?"   
  
He threads his fingers through her messy hair, making her sigh against his skin. "Because the law of physics don't exist?"  
  
She giggles, leaving a trail of kisses from his neck to his collarbone. "I mean, the premises on which the whole movie is built are shaky. Are sharks even able to survive that long out of water and-"  
  
It's so utterly _Rey_ , and beautiful, and warm that he can't even stop himself.   
  
"I love you".  
  
The words hang in the air for a moment, before both of them can truly grasp them. It feels like an eternity - a whole lifetime passes between him uttering the words and Rey pulling away from him, just slightly, to stare at him, parted lips and wide eyes, and Ben can feel himself tense under her gaze. Maybe it's too soon, he thinks - maybe he has ruined this too, says the old voice inside his mind.  
  
But he tries to keep the voice silent. He reaches for her face, hesitantly, and brushes a strand of hair out of her forehead, tucking it behind her ear, and Rey smiles, softly, her eyes glistening in the approaching darkness of her room. "I know that maybe it's too soon," he murmurs, sweetly, a little apologetic smile on his face. "And you don't have to say it back. I just wanted you to know that," he pauses, before adding, "To know that you are loved".  
  
There's another moment of silence, but it's not awkward or tense anymore. It feels almost right, as Rey looks at him, intently. Her shoulders are shivering, but she's stubbornly staring at him, almost refusing to cry, even if her lips curve in a tremulous smile.

"Was my harsh critic on Sharknado that made you realize that?" she asks, trying to keep herself together, as she always does, but her hands are trembling, and her fingers on his arm are digging into his skin, gripping him so tightly it should hurt, but it doesn't.   
  
He smiles too, cupping her face.

"Yeah, definitely," he says, lowering himself just enough to press a kiss to her cheek, and he can feel her laugh, softly, under his lips. Oh, what a beautiful sensation - he's making her happy, and it will never feel less wonderful than this, less surprising than this. "I love you," he says again, because he can, and he feels almost high on it. He could say it all night, whispering it against her skin, etching those words to her bones, making her feel loved. "I love you".  
  
And Rey - beautiful, impossible, maddening Rey - finally lets go of all of it, and pulls at his hair, just enough to make him raise his eyes, and crashes her mouth against his, desperate and hungry, and magnificent. She's shivering against him, and he brings his arm around her small frame, keeping her close to him, holding her through it all. "I love you," he keeps murmuring between kisses, and Rey laughs and cry and presses herself against him, almost as she was trying to nestle her small body into his, finally finding a home after all these years.  
  
"I love you, too" she whispers, pulling away from him just slightly to look him in the eyes. There are tears on her face, and he brushes them off with his thumb, smiling softly, as his heart goes wild in his chest. "I love you too, Ben. I love you so much".  
  
Oh, how wondrous is to love, how even more wonderful is to be loved. He traces her freckles with his fingertips, marveling at the fact that she's there - that in a cruel, vast, ever-expanding universe, she has found her way into his life, changing it forever.  
  
She sinks her head into his chest, breathing slowly, and he leaves sweet, feather-like kisses on her shoulder. She has freckles there too, and the thought makes his heart swell in his chest.   
  
"I'm hungry," she murmurs, after a while, against his skin and the normalcy, the domesticity of it makes him laugh, softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before she pulls away. "Want something to eat?"  
  
He nods, as she slowly raises herself the bed, not even bothering to cover her body. Ben follows her movements with his eyes, marveling at the beauty of her, and at her ease around him. "Yeah, sure".  
  
Rey laughs, and then she climbs out of the bed, and takes his hand into hers, tugging at it to make him move. "Come on, let's go in the kitchen".  
  
She leads him, and he follows her, as always.

*

_months later_

Ben waves Finn goodbye with the hand that's currently holding the coffee, as he keeps the door open for Rey with the other, and Finn waves back, smiling, as he watches them exit the coffee shop. Rey is too busy to enjoy her atrocity of a coffee to actually complain about him opening the door for her, and he takes advantage of that.

They stand outside The Resistance, as they slowly sip on their beverage. It's almost October, and an early breeze sweeps the first red leaves off the street, making them dance gracefully around the two of them, and moves his hair around, but it's not unpleasant - it's still warm, and the splash of bright colors makes him smile. Autumn has always been his favorite season and Naboo is actually really beautiful this time of the year, and there's something magical in the way the warm colors suit Rey so well.

He turns to stare at her, as she drinks her abomination. She's already wrapped in a coat, because she can't stand even a little bit of cold, and she's looking at him with a small smile on her lips. The morning rolls around, shining on them, and it all feels so peaceful and bright, and Ben feels quiet, as he's never felt before he came here.

"I can't actually believe you really drink Pumpkin Spice Latte," he says, rising his eyebrows at her, above his cup of black coffee, because he loves to tease her about her obviously terrible choices in coffee. Rey stares back at him with equally raised eyebrows, and if she doesn't look offended, it's only because she knows him so well, and she's basically used to it by now.

"Hey, it's almost Halloween," she replies, and even if Halloween is actually still a month away, he doesn't correct her, because he loves the way her eyes shine when she teases him and comes up with a retort. "It's like, mandatory".

He chuckles a little bit, taking a sip of his coffee and enjoying the feeling of the hot beverage warming him up. He doesn't drink as much caffeine as he used to, now, because he doesn't spend most of his nights lost in a nightmare anymore (he actually spends them curled around Rey, pressing his face into the place between her shoulder blades and feeling safe for the first time in years), but - well, Luke may be right, saying he's an addict, because he can't really quit it altogether.

"It's a crime against coffee," he tells her, smiling down at her and Rey throws her head back, whining and groaning as she usually does. He chuckles again, because he can't really help it, and stares at her face as she wrinkles her nose. She always looks beautiful to him, even like this.

"Shut up and drink your bland black coffee, you pretentious idiot," she retorts, as usual, and he can't help himself - he stretches out his arm and snakes it around her waist, pulling her close to him. Rey groans again, but this time is less annoyed and more teasing. "Careful, you'll make me spill my coffee".

He hums, as he presses a kiss on the crown of her head. "Tragic," he says, and she lightly punches him, without really hurting him, before melting into his embrace, carefully balancing the cup of coffee in her hand, and resting her head on his chest at the same time. He sighs, content. It's been, well, a long time for his standards and he should be over it by now, but he's clearly not, and, frankly, he's okay with it - they've been together for months , but to him, it still feels like the first week, and he wants all but to spend all his days curled around her, her body pressed against his in the most beautiful way.

He supposes it will never get old, this marvel he feels in his bones.

"What are you doing today?" he asks her, after a minute or two. Rey hums, her head pressed against his sweater, and he smiles at the way she feels so comfortable like this. They must look ridiculous, standing on the sidewalk outside The Resistance just holding each other, but Ben doesn't care at all. "Busy day?"

She hums again. "Yeah, I have a few appointments," she replies, pulling away just a little to look him in the eyes. The smile that she gifts him - small, and intimate - makes his heart lose a few beats, even if he should be used to it by now. "What about you?"

He takes another sip of his coffee, before answering. "Same old, just another day at the shop. I'm helping Luke with a few deliveries," he replies, shrugging, and Rey hums again, her free hand tracing patterns along his back, up and down, following the line of his spine. "And then I'll head out to my therapist," he adds, casually. It feels almost weird to say it - at the beginning it had been so terrifying, and he hadn't mentioned it to Rey until a few appointments in, afraid of what she could think of him, but of course, she's always been nothing if not supportive, and now it's _normal_ for him to say things like that. He supposes that's the point of therapy. "See you tonight?"

"Mh," A kiss on his jawline, sweet and tender, and her lips, pressed against his skin. Ben automatically closes his eyes, letting himself get swept away by the sensation. "Don't forget you have to pick me up at nine," she says, against his cheek. He makes a non committal sound, because he has no idea of what she's talking about, and Rey laughs, pulling away from him and staring at him with a smirk on her face. "We have movie night at Poe's tonight, did you forget?"

Ben groans, throwing his head back as he usually does, but he's not so annoyed at all - in fact, he almost likes movie nights at Poe's, even if his taste in movies is absolutely terrible. "What are we going to watch tonight, _Twilight_?"

Rey laughs, softly, as the wind moves her hair around, making her look like some sort of autumn fairy. "No, I think he's chosen National Treasure," she replies, and of course he has, Ben thinks. Well, it could be worse. It could actually be Twilight. "Come on, let's get this day started," she adds, and Ben whines, because he wants to stay like this forever, his arms wrapped around her and her head pressed against his chest, but he knows he has a job and responsibilities, and he can't really cling to his girlfriend all day long.

Luke would tease him about it for _years_.

He leaves a last, lingering kiss on her forehead, before letting her go. "Don't forget not to take any appointment for this weekend," he reminds her, tucking a strand of hair beneath her ear and smiling down at her. "My mother expects us for dinner on Saturday".

Rey's smile is so bright and beautiful he can't help but smile too, even if he doesn't really look forward to his mother sitting him and Rey through another show of his baby photos. It seems like there are tons of them - everytime they visit there's some new teasing material his mother wants to show his girlfriend. He should take the albums away from her, he thinks. But Rey - Rey is always so happy about it, and when she talks with his mother she's glowing, eyes full of adoration, and he supposes it's only fair he puts up with his mother embarrassing him, if it makes Rey so happy.

"I know, sweetie, I have already cleared my schedule," she replies, gently, raising on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. It's sweet and kind, and all too brief, but full of promises and quiet happiness, and all the things he never thought he could have. When she pulls away, he knows he's smiling, and he doesn't even feel too self conscious about it. "See you tonight?"

He nods. "See you tonight," he murmurs, and then he passes an arm around her shoulder, and together they walk towards the rest of the day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaand that's a wrap! i can't believe this story has officially ended. i think it's both the first thing i manage to finish in years and the longest thing i've written and probably in a couple of weeks or months i'll be cringing internally while re-reading this whole story, but for now i think i'm actually proud of it!  
> i started writing this in a difficult moment in my life and while now things are not exactly better, this story gave me a healthy outlet and it showed me that i could put all my stress and anxiety in something productive, for once. this started as a form of escapism, but i can't tell you how surprised and thankful i am for all the positive responses it has gotten over these past weeks. your comments have always made my day a little lighter, and they have helped me getting through a lot of self-doubts. i'm always insecure about my writing - about writing too much, or being too cheesy, or my english being not good enough -, but your kind words have made it easier, so thank you all, for taking time to tell me what you thought of the story, and making me smile!
> 
> i'm already working on another reylo project but, sadly, exams time approaches, and from now until probably mid-july (because university in italy is hell) i'll be sticking to my books and try to survive these months. i'll obviously take time to rest and write, since it has helped me a lot, but i probably won't publish anything, unless i manage to write a good chunk of it, because i don't want to leave you hanging 'cause of my exams.  
> you can still find me on my [tumblr](http://kylorensx.tumblr.com//), where you can say hi or drop a prompt or cry with me over adam driver. 
> 
> thank you so much for everything, and forgive my sappy notes! have a lovely day or night, depending on where you are and when are you reading, and remember that i am so thankful for everything!


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